I'd have them come one or two at a time so we could talk about their families, their issues, talk about how much we mean to each other.
Then I'd like to go for a walk, in a garden with some trees, watch their colors, watch the birds,
take in the nature that I haven't seen in so long now.
In the evening, we'd all go together to a restaurant with some great pasta, maybe some duck—I love duck—and then we'd dance the rest of the night.
I'd dance with all the wonderful dance partners out there, until I was exhausted.
And then I'd go home and have a deep, wonderful sleep.
“That's it?” “That's it.” It was so simple. So average. I was actually a little disappointed.
I figured he'd fly to Italy or have lunch with the President or romp on the seashore or try every exotic thing he could think of.
After all these months, lying there, unable to move a leg or a foot—
how could he find perfection in such an average day?
Then I realized this was the whole point. Before I left that day, Morrie asked if he could bring up a topic. “Your brother,” he said.
I felt a shiver. I do not know how Morrie knew this was on my mind.
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