Sublime

I believe many visitors in the last few months of Morrie’s life were drawn not because of the attention they wanted to pay to him but because of the attention he paid to them. Despite his personal pain and decay, this little old man listened the way they always wanted someone to listen.

There is no forced retirement from aging creatively.

Albom planned one visit, but Morrie insisted he come back. Their conversations, held over a period of several weeks, would turn into a book called Tuesdays with Morrie, with millions of copies sold worldwide. The book is powerful not only because of Morrie’s passion for life, but also Albom’s own transformation. He and Morrie discussed the same cha

Morrie, for the suffering of people half a world away, was weeping. Is this what comes at the end, I wondered? Maybe death is the great equalizer, the one big thing that can finally make strangers shed a tear for one another.

I believe that trying to become the best person we can be, aging well, and coming to terms with our issues might be the most important and meaningful goals to strive for in later life.

The last class of my old professor’s life took place once a week, in his home, by a window in his study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink flowers. The class met on Tuesdays. No books were required. The subject was the meaning of life. It was taught from experience. The teaching goes on.

Morrie is wearing long sleeves, with a blanket over his legs, his skin pale. The disease owns him.