Tuesdays With Morrie

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Genre/Themes: Non-Fiction
My Rating: ★★★★☆

I was forced to read this book to help my sister who was required to read it for a course. I'm glad she forced me.

The book follows Morrie's progression through ALS until death. Though his body was deteriorating around him, he was a professor until the end. One of his favorite students hearing of Morrie's illness on a TV show got back into touch with his old professor. Every Tuesday, they held a "class" on the meaning of life. The touched on subjects such as money, family, the fear of aging, and so on. Morrie made a lot of comments during his last couple of months that really made me sit back and say, "Wow, I need to think on that." I started making a list partially through the book, but they were too numerous for me to mention them all, so I'll present one:

"The problem, Mitch, is that we don't believe we are as much alike as we are. Whites and blacks, Catholics and Protestants, men and women. If we saw each other as more alike, we might be very eager to join in one big human family in this world, and to care about that family the way we care about our own.

"But believe me, when you are dying, you see it is true. We all have the same beginning-birth-and we all have the same end-death. So how different can we be?

"Invest in the human family. Invest in people. Build a little community of those you love and who love you." (During the 11th Tuesday)

It was comments like this that I found very profound and made me think.


This book reminded me a lot of my great-grandfather's passing though I was only six when it happened. The last time I saw my grandpa, he was laying in a hospital bed, barely able to speak, hardly able to move. He was surrounded by family--all of us crammed in as tightly as we could around him. We were carrying on a one-sided discussion telling him what was going on within the family. He followed our discussion talking with his eyes. Nodding or giving one syllable comments when he was able.

During our conversation, the nurse came in and changed his IV bag. The bag had folded over itself so that the letters read "chili." We joked with him about what a great hospital he was in if he was able to have chili!

Soon it was time for us to go. We told him that we loved him and that we were ok. It was ok to say good-bye and that we knew he wanted to be with Grandma. He started crying. We all did. But he looked so happy surrounded by his family. As we were leaving, he told us, "Good-bye." He never said good-bye. It was always, "See you later." He died that night.