“Dad，”I finally whispered， tears in my eyes，“why is it so hard for you to look at me？”At last his eyes dropped to my face and he studied me intently.“Because I love you so much，”he whispered back，“because I love you.”I was struck dumb by his response. It wasn‘t what I had anticipated. But it was of course exactly what I needed to hear. His own eyes were misty and he was blinking.
I had always known that he loved me. I just hadn’t understood that his vast emotion had frightened him and made him mute. His taciturn manner hid the deep emotions flowing inside.
“I love you too， Dad.”I whispered back softly. He stumbled over the next few words，“I... I‘m sorry that I’m not demonstrative.”Then he said，“I‘ve realized that I don’t show what I feel. My parents never hugged or kissed me and I guess I learned how not to from them. It‘s... it’s... hard for me. I‘m probably too old to change my ways now， but just know how much I love you.”“Okay.”I smiled.
When the dance ended I brought Dad back to Mom waiting at the table and excused myself to the ladies’room. I was gone just a few minutes but during my absence everything changed.
There were screams and shouts and scrapings of chairs as I made my way back across the room. I wondered what the commotion was all about. As I approached the table， I saw it was all about Dad. He was slumped in his chair and his face was ashen. A doctor in the restaurant rushed over to handle the emergency and an ambulance was called but it was really all too late. He was gone. Instantly they said.
What had suddenly made me after so many years of steeling myself against his constant rejection ask him to dance？ What had made him accept？ Where had those impulses come from？ And why now？
In the restaurant that night all I saw was his slumped body and ashen face surrounded by solemn diners and grim faced paramedics. But it‘s a totally different scene that I remember now. I remember our waltz on the dance floor and his sudden urgent confession to me. I remember him saying“I love you”and my saying it back.
And as I remember this scene somehow incongruously， the words of an old Donna Summer song tap out a refrain in my mind- last dance... last chance... for love...
It was indeed the first last and only dance that I ever had with my father. What a blessing that we had the chance to say before it was too late the three words that live on forever long after we are gone stretching into eternity.
那确实是我与父亲第一次跳舞，也是最后一次，此生唯一的一次。
参考翻译（佚名）
父亲的脾气很坏。我记不清他最后一次温柔地抚摸我的脸颊，弄乱我的头发或轻唤我的乳名是什么时候了。他的糖尿病使他性子很急，常常大吵大嚷。每当看到别的父亲温柔地亲吻他们女儿的额头或深情地拥抱她们时，我的嫉妒之感就会油然而生。父亲是爱我的，而且爱我至深，这一点我很清楚，但他就是不知道该如何用言语来表达。
对不能给予回应的人说“我爱你”是件很困难的事情。遭到他几次断然回绝后，我气馁了，不再那么热情地向他表达我的爱了。我再也没有主动张开双臂去拥抱、亲吻他。开始，我是有意识地控制自己的行为，后来就习惯成自然了，最后终于成为无意识的做法。我们之间的爱强烈而又无声地延续着。
那样的夜晚实在是少有，那次母亲说服了向来孤僻的父亲与我们一起去城里。后来我们在一家环境幽雅的餐馆入座，这家餐馆因拥有一支活跃的小型乐队而著称。当熟悉的华尔兹舞曲响起时，我看了父亲一眼，在我眼里，他突然变得弱小，完全不是我一直认识的那个强悍而咄咄逼人的父亲。
所有感情创伤顿时袭上心头，我决定再勇敢地尝试最后一次。“爸！您知道，我从来没和您跳过舞。我小的时候，就曾请求过您，但您一直不愿意！现在跳一曲怎样？”我等待着往常那粗鲁的回答会再一次令我心碎，但出乎意料的是，父亲深情地望着我，眼神中闪现出令我惊讶的光芒。“如此说来，我一直没尽到做父亲的责任。”他一反常态地开玩笑说，“我们到舞池去吧，我要向你展示一下，我这样的老头能跳出什么样的舞步。”
父亲将我拥入臂弯，引领我进入舞池。从很小的时候起，我就没感受过父亲怀抱的温暖。此刻，我不禁有些受宠若惊。
跳舞时，我专注地望着父亲，可他却躲避我的视线，他的目光从舞池扫过，又掠过其他就餐者和乐队成员。他认真打量着每个人，每样东西，就是不看我。我觉得他一定是后悔答应和我跳舞了，与我靠得这样近他似乎很不自在。
“爸！”终于，我含泪轻声对他说，“让您看我一眼为什么就这么难呢？”他的目光最后定格在我的脸上，他凝视着我。“因为我爱你至深。”他轻声回答，“因为我爱你。”他的答复惊得我哑口无言，很出乎我的意料。可是，这的确是我想要听到的。他的眼睛也湿润了，不停地眨着。
我始终很清楚，他是爱我的，只是不理解他的强烈情感竟然会将他吓倒，令他哑口无言。他内心涌动的强烈情感被他的沉默寡言掩盖了。
“我也爱您，爸爸！”我轻柔地低声回应他。他结结巴巴地说出了下面的话：“对……对不起，我不善于表达。”然后他说，“我也意识到了没表达出自己的感受。我的父母从没拥抱或亲吻过我，我想我不善于表达感情是从他们那里继承的，那……那……对我来说很难。或许是因为我太老了，很难改变自己为人处世的方式，但你要知道，我非常爱你。”“知道了。”我微笑着说。
舞曲结束后，我把父亲带到一直等候在桌旁的母亲身边，然后去了卫生间。我离开了不过几分钟的时间，然而就在这几分钟里，一切都发生了改变。
就在我返回座位时，我听到了尖叫声、呼喊声和椅子的刮擦声。我很纳闷，这些骚乱究竟是怎么回事。我走近餐桌才知道是爸爸出事了。他面色灰白，瘫倒在椅子上，餐馆里的一位医生冲过来紧急抢救，并叫了救护车，但一切都无济于事。他走了，很匆忙。
是什么促使我再次邀请他跳舞呢？--这么多年遭到他拒绝，我已经将内心封闭了。又是什么力量使他接受了呢？那冲动源于何处？而又为什么恰在此时此刻呢？
那晚，在餐馆里，我看到的只是他灰白的面孔和瘫倒的身体，还有周围严肃的就餐者和有着冷酷面孔的救护人员。而如今我的脑海里却是另一番情景--我们在舞池里跳华尔兹，突然，他急切地对我表白，我记得他对我说“我爱你”，并且我也回应了他。
当我不合时宜地回想这番情景时，不知为什么，耳畔总是不断回响着唐娜·萨默的一首老歌歌词--最后的舞蹈……最后的机会……为了爱……那确实是我与父亲第一次跳舞，也是最后一次，此生唯一的一次。感谢上苍给我们说出那三个字的机会，还好不太迟。即使我们远离尘世后，那永远鲜活的三个字，也会恒久存在。