Listen, I have to pee. Would you mind helping? Are you okay with that?
Often, to their own surprise, they were. In fact, he entertained a growing stream of visitors.
He had discussion groups about dying, what it really meant,
how societies had always been afraid of it without necessarily understanding it.
He told his friends that if they really wanted to help him,
they would treat him not with sympathy but with visits, phone calls, a sharing of their problems—
the way they had always shared their problems, because Morrie had always been a wonderful listener.
For all that was happening to him, his voice was strong and inviting, and his mind was vibrating with a million thoughts.
He was intent on proving that the word “dying” was not synonymous with “useless.”
The New Year came and went. Although he never said it to anyone, Morrie knew this would be the last year of his life.
He was using a wheelchair now, and he was fighting time to say all the things he wanted to say to all the people he loved.
When a colleague at Brandeis died suddenly of a heart attack, Morrie went to his funeral. He came home depressed.
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