Blog 13

The Morrie I knew, the Morrie so many others knew, would have not been the man he was without the years he spent working at a mental hospital. This was one of Morrie's first jobs after a master's degree and a Ph.D. from University of Chicago. Morrie was given a grant to observe the patients and record their treatments. Morrie saw patients who would scram all day. Patients who would cry all night, soil their underwear, refused to eat, having to be held down, and medicated.Morrie would watch in horror, when one patient who was a middle-aged woman, would come out of her room everyday and lye face down on the tile floor. She would stay there for hours as doctor and nurses would step around her. Morrie took notes which he was there to do. Every day she would do this. It saddened Morrie. He began to sit with her, even lay down alongside her. What she mostly wanted was for someone to notice that she was there. He would befriended some of the patients. One of the lessons Morrie would never forget was that the patients were well-off, from rich families, so their wealth did not buy them happiness or contentment.
One time a group of black students took over Ford Hall on the Brandeis campus. Ford Hall had chemistry labs. One of the administration officials worried that the students were making bombs in the basement. Morrie saw right through the core of the problem, was that human beings wanting to feel that they mattered. The standoff lasted for weeks. It might have went on longer if Morrie hadn't been walking by the building and one of the protesters noticed him as one of his favorite teacher. Morrie always made good peace.
The seventh Tuesday. Morrie lost his battle. Someone was now wiping his behind. The most personal and basic things had been taken away from him, washing his private, going to the bathroom and blowing his nose. He was dependent on others for nearly everything. At seventy-eight, he was giving as an adult and taking as a child. We talked about aging and the fear of aging. On my ride form the Boston Airport I saw billboards with beautiful and young people that barely passed the thirty-five. I told Morrie I was already feeling over the hill as much I tried my best to stay on top of it. I worked out constantly, watched what I ate. I had gone from being proud to say my age, to not bringing it up. "Listen. You should know something. All younger people should know something. If you're always battling against getting older, you're always going to be unhappy." Morrie told me.