TERMINALLY OLD

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TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE

Morrie, true to these words, had developed his own culture – long before he got sick. Discussion groups, walks with friends, dancing to his music in the Harvard Square church. He started a project called Greenhouse, where poor people could receive mental health services. He read books to find new ideas for his classes, visited with colleagues, kept up with old students, wrote letters to distant friends. He took more time eating and looking at nature and wasted no time in front of TV sitcoms or “Movies of the Week.” He had created a cocoon of human activities – conversation, interaction, affection – and it filled his life like an overflowing soup bowl.174 Morrie lived life to its fullest. He didn’t have any regrets when he lost the ability to sing, dance, swim, and walk. He told Albom, “I may be dying, but I am surrounded by loving, caring souls. How many people can say that?”175 These conversations affected Albom profoundly, convincing him to change his mindset completely: And you know, you can either choose to just see the world as all gloom, but I think I learned from Morrie early on that, you know, he was dying from Lou Gehrig’s disease and…he couldn’t move, he couldn’t – he had to be lifted out of a chair. He had to have someone wipe his rear end. And he was eminently upbeat and positive and still looking to his dying day to the – to the positivity of people and the goodness of people. And I thought if he could do that in a chair where he can’t move…then certainly with health and so many blessings, I can certainly be optimistic and try to be inspiring to people, too.176

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