“Well, I feel sorry for your generation,” Morrie said.
“In this culture, it's so important to find a loving relationship with someone because so much of the culture does not give you that.
But the poor kids today, either they're too selfish to take part in a real loving relationship,
or they rush into marriage and then six months later, they get divorced.
They don't know what they want in a partner. They don't know who they are themselves—so how can they know who they're marrying?”
He sighed. Morrie had counseled so many unhappy lovers in his years as a professor.
“It's sad, because a loved one is so important. You realize that, especially when you're in a time like I am, when you're not doing so well.
Friends are great, but friends are not going to be here on a night when you're coughing and can't sleep
and someone has to sit up all night with you, comfort you, try to be helpful.”
Charlotte and Morrie, who met as students, had been married forty-four years.
I watched them together now, when she would remind him of his medication,
or come in and stroke his neck, or talk about one of their sons.
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