The stranger translated my father’s final joke

Dear Delyara, My father died in a German hospital while I was still learning the language. Near the end, medication made his speech weak, and I could not understand the last sentence he repeated. A cleaner from Bosnia was working nearby. She heard our language, came closer, and asked whether she could help. My father whispered again. She leaned near him, smiled, and translated: “He says the hospital coffee is so bad he may die to avoid another cup.” I laughed, then Father laughed, and for a moment death did not own the entire room. He died twenty minutes later. The cleaner stayed until the nurse arrived, though her cart remained in the hallway. I never learned her surname. For months, I searched for her through the hospital, and yesterday I finally found her. I brought coffee from my father’s favorite café and told her she had given me access to his final joke. She said she had only translated words. She was wrong. She returned my father’s personality to us at the exact moment illness had almost reduced him to breathing and numbers.