Blog 15

With each visit, Morrie is only getting worse. His legs need constant tending, and even though he can feel the pain, he can't move them. He cannot move his head either. Morrie just seems to melt into his chair. Yet he still insists on being lifted from his bed each morning, and wheeled into his study. "When you're in bed, you're dead," he told me.

"I decided what I want on my tombstone," Morrie had said to me. It gave me chills just thinking about it, but I asked anyways. "I was thinking this: A Teacher to the Last."

Morrie always had a way of making people feel good. Whenever I enter the room, he would say, "Ahhhh, it's my buddy." And whenever Morrie was with me, he was really with me, He would look me straight in the eye, listening as if you were the only person in the world. "I believe in being fully present," he told me.