Yeah, yeah, I would answer.I decided what I wanted on my tombstone,he said.
I don't want to hear about tombstones. “Why? They make you nervous?”
I shrugged. “We can forget it.” No, go ahead. What did you decide?
Morrie popped his lips. “I was thinking of this: A Teacher to the Last.”
He waited while I absorbed it. A Teacher to the Last. “Good?” he said.
Yes, I said. Very good. I came to love the way Morrie lit up when I entered the room.
He did this for many people, I know, but it was his special talent to make each visitor feel that the smile was unique.
“Ahhhh, it's my buddy,” he would say when he saw me, in that foggy, high-pitched voice.
And it didn't stop with the greeting. When Morrie was with you, he was really with you.
He looked you straight in the eye, and he listened as if you were the only person in the world.
How much better would people get along if their first encounter each day were like this—
instead of a grumble from a waitress or a bus driver or a boss?
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