If I could,
I would quote this entire book!
November 12, 1995
BOSTON -- The worst part
of dying this way, he said, was that he couldn't dance. Morrie loved to
dance. For years he went to a church hall not far from Harvard Square, where once a week
they would blast music and open the door to anyone, dance however
you wanted, with whomever you wanted. Morrie danced by himself. He
shimmied and fox-trotted, he did old dances to modern rock music. He
closed his eyes and fell into the rhythm, twirling and spinning
and clapping his hands. There, among the college students, this old man
with twinkling eyes and thin white hair shook his body until his T-shirt
was soaked with sweat. He was a respected sociology professor with a wife
and two sons. He had written books. He had lectured all over. But on these
nights, he danced alone like a shipwrecked child. He wasn't
embarrassed. He never got embarrassed. For him, the whole thing was a sort
of introspective journey.
It would not be his
last.
Dancing ended for Morrie
Schwartz in the last few years, as did nearly every other physical
activity; driving, walking, bathing, going to the bathroom, even wiping
tears from his eyes. He was hit with Lou Gehrig's disease, a killer that
takes the pieces of your life the way a dealer takes the cards off
the blackjack table. Your nerves die, your muscles go limp. Your arms and
legs become useless. Even swallowing is a chore. By the end, the
only thing untouched is your mind. For most people, this is more a
curse than a blessing. Most people.
"My disease,"
Morrie once said, lying in the chair in his West Newton, Mass., study,
"is the most horrible and wonderful death. Horrible because, well,
look at me" -- he cast his eyes down on his ragged, shrunken body
-- "but wonderful because of all the time it gives me to say to
good-bye. And to figure out where I'm going next."
"And where is
that?" he was asked.
He grinned like an elf.
"I'll let you
know."
"The truth is, once you learn how to die, you learn how
to live."
"Dying is only one thing to be sad over. Living
unhappily is something else."
"There is a big confusion in this country over what we
want verses what we need...you need food. You want a chocolate sundae."
"Remember what I said about
finding a meaningful life? I wrote it down, but now I can recite it: Devote
yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and
devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning."
"Giving to other people makes
me feel alive. Not my car or my house. Not what I look like in the mirror. When
I give my time, when I can make someone smile after they were feeling
sad..."
"Accept who you are; and revel
in it."
“A teacher to the last”
