Nothing else will give you that. Not money. Not fame.
He shot me a look. “Not work,” he added. Raising a family was one of those issues on my little list—things you want to get right before it’s too late.
I told Morrie about my generation’s dilemma with having children,
how we often saw them as tying us down, making us into these “parent” things that we did not want to be.
I admitted to some of these emotions myself. Yet when I looked at Morrie, I wondered if I were in his shoes, about to die,
and I had no family, no children, would the emptiness be unbearable?
He had raised his two sons to be loving and caring, and like Morrie, they were not shy with their affection.
Had he so desired, they would have stopped what they were doing to be with their father every minute of his final months.
But that was not what he wanted. “Do not stop your lives,” he told them.
Otherwise, this disease will have ruined three of us instead of one.
In this way, even as he was dying, he showed respect for his children’s worlds.
Little wonder that when they sat with him, there was a waterfall of affection,
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