It had been 10 years since Morrie died, and so much has changed. I use his lessons every day in of my life, and I honestly can 't imagine where I 'd be without them. I just published another book, making the New York Times Bestseller list. I ask myself every chapter of writing, “What would Morrie think of this?”, and I can only hope he would be proud.
I currently find myself sitting at a wooden table in a large bookstore, the busy streets of downtown portland outside the window catching my attention every once in awhile. This has been my fifth book signing this month for "The Magic Strings of Frankie Presto" and I was extremely proud of how far I 've come.
The day was shortening, and there was only one person left for me to sign. As an
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My first Tuesday, I was in such a great denial, admittedly, this was also the day I realized I wanted change. I remember so clearly the patient look on his face when I sat in the car, the phone on my ear. I realize now I was wasting time that could 've been with him.
I remember sitting with him, worried that he would suddenly drop at anytime, but as time progressed, it didn 't even seem like he was going, he was just there, teaching me.
Our last lesson was the best though, we sat there, conversing like the old friends we now were, the death and age clearly showing on his face. I didn 't want him to go, but this was not my choice. I don 't remember clearly if I ever actually said "goodbye" to him, but I don 't want to, because there never really was a goodbye with Morrie. I still see him every Tuesday, after dinner with my wife. I go into my study and close my eyes, and I think about what I did this week, and Morrie shows up again, helping me through what needs to be helped.
I look back in a specific way, and hope you do too. ASL did not take Morrie, it didn 't take your brother either. It brought us closer to them."
The woman looked at me with tears in her eyes, happy to hear how I felt during my time with Morrie, hearing it directly from me making it more real than a pen and