Maybe it was a grandparent, or a teacher or a colleague. Someone older, patient and wise, who understood you when you were young and searching, and gave you sound advice to help you make your way through it. For Mitch Albom, that person was Morrie Schwartz, his college professor from nearly twenty years ago.
Maybe, like Mitch, you lost track of this mentor as you made your way, and the insights faded. Wouldn’t you like to see that person again, ask the bigger questions that still haunt you?
Mitch Albom had that second chance. He rediscovered Morrie in the last months of the older man’s life. Knowing he was dying of ALS – or motor neurone disease – Mitch visited Morrie in his study every Tuesday, just as they used to back in college. Their rekindled relationship turned into one final ‘class’: lessons in how to live. (From: Goodreads)
It’s a book telling two life stories. One is Morrie’s, obviously, and the other is Mitch’s. This is a book about love and lost. Every chapter is short, which makes this book easy to read.
The first chapter that brightened my eyes was Taking Attendance. It was when Mitch went to London to cover the world’s premier tennis competition in Wimbledon.
England was warm and cloudy, and each morning I walked the tree-lined streets near the tennis courts, passing teenagers cued up for leftover tickets and vendors selling strawberries and cream. Outside the gate was a newsstand that sold a half-dozen colorful British tabloids, featuring photos of topless women, paparazzi pictures of the royal family, horoscopes, sports, lottery contests, and a wee bit of actual news.
Morrie Schwarz was such a wise man. I especially love the fourth Tuesday — We Talk About Death
“The truth is, Mitch,” he said, “once you learn how to die, you learn how to live.”
It’s hard to have no regret when you die, I guess. Therefore, when you are about to die, you start to think about your whole life. However, this kind of situation only applies to people who suffer from diseases.
“Because,” Morrie continued, “most of us all walk around as if we’re sleepwalking. We really don’t experience the world fully, because we’re half-asleep, doing things we automatically think we have to do.”
I really like this sleepwalk theory. I believe so. Take me as an example, most of the time, I fool around, feeling nothing. Only once in a while do I feel like I have the drive to live a good day, to really LIVE my life. We’ve all heard this sentence before, “Just because you’re breathing doesn’t mean you’re alive.”
“Well, the truth is, if you really listen to that bird on your shoulder, if you accept that you can die at any time — then you might not be as ambitious as you are.”
Well, the truth is that there are two types of people. One will probably be lack of energy when they learn they are about to die. The other will probably be more energetic since they want to see what they haven’t see and want to learn what they haven’t learnt.
“Do not stop your lives,” he told them. “Otherwise, this disease will have ruined three of us instead of one.”
Death is always hard for someone who loves you as well as whom you love. They don’t want to let go of you, yet you don’t want to let go of them but you have to. In many cases, after one person’s loved one died, he tended to commit suicide.
Maybe death is the great equalizer, the one big thing that can finally make strangers shed a tear for one another.
This is the part I don’t quite understand. Why would someone shed tear for strangers just because they die? It doesn’t make sense! I believe that we might feel sad. But shed tear? Seriously? We don’t have that much tear to shed everyday.
The part I have the most feeling is,
“I don’t know why you came back to me. But I want to say this . . .”
He paused, and his voice choked.
“If I could have another son, I would have liked it to be you.”
So…why I only gave this book 3 out of 5 stars? It’s because it’s not exciting (of course, it’s not a novel) nor did it make me want to turn the next page.