Tuesdays with Morrie (part 1)

I am reading Tuesdays with Morrie, written by Mitch Albom. It was published by Doubleday in 1997. I focused on chapter two: The Syllabus. 

Morrie was an exciting and thoughtful sociology professor who didn't seem to have much self consciousness about displaying his true self to others. His body began to break down and he gradually realized that it wasn't simply old age. He allowed doctors to perform series of tests, which led to the diagnosis of Lou Gherig's disease; a debilitating neurological condition. Morrie was no longer able to live a normal life, and it became neccesary for him hire helpers to assist him in all aspects of his life. However, even as his body deteriorated, Morrie did not allow shame about his illness to limit him. Instead, he chose to speak openly about his illness and his impending death.

Mitch, the author of Tuesdays with Morrie, lost touch with the relationships he had formed during college, including his relationship with his professor and close friend, Morrie. After his college graduation, Mitch set his mind on chasing his dreams of becoming a musician, but when his uncle became fatally ill, and Mitch witnessed the death, the pathways of his life took a sharp turn. He dove into a world of constant movement, becoming a columnist, he focused all of his attention on his work and things that before had not mattered. 

Morrie's conscious decision to allow people to learn from his death, along with him, interested many, and he was interviewed on television. Upon learning of Morrie's illness, Mitch reached out to Morrie and began to pay him visits on Tuesdays.

Whereas many people fear death, Morrie decided to confront his illness for exactly what it was and to make his impending death the subject of his last class. It is his resignation and courageous openness about his own deterioration that makes Tuesdays with Morrie an invaluable lesson about mortality. 

"Do I wither up and disappear, or do I make the best of my time left? he had asked himself. 

He would not wither. He would not be ashamed of dying. Instead, he would make death his final project, the center point of his days... Study with me in my slow and patient demise. Watch what happens to me. learn with me." (page 10) When I first read this, I imagined myself thinking something similar to Morrie's thoughts (when my time comes). I then re-imagined myself not being able to allow somebody to study my own death. I realized then that my first reaction of wanting to follow Morrie's footsteps were because I appreciated his confrontation and his attempt at normalcy with death. Morrie decided to allow people to learn from his narration of his own death because he wanted people to be able to reflect on themselves and to learn from his experiences. Having been an educator for most of his life, he was able to think critically and reflect on the pathways that his illness would take to his death. He did so through open introspection, and in a manner that many people would be fearful to undertake. 

"And on a cold Sunday afternoon, he was joined in his home by a small group of friends and family for a 'living funeral.' Each of them spoke and paid tribute to my old professor." (page 12)This piece struck me as powerful because it is clear that Morrie is not afraid to question certain traditions. To change the traditions of funerals can be seen as taboo, but as Morrie approached death himself, he realized that he could do things differently if he pleased to. He felt that funerals were not sensible because the person isn't able to hear what their loved ones have to say about them.

"Morrie was in a wheelchair full-time now, getting used to helpers lifting him like a heavy sack from the chair to the bed and the bed to the chair. He had begun to cough while eating, and chewing was a chore. His legs were dead; he would never walk again. Yet he refused to be depressed. Instead, Morrie had become a lightning rod of ideas. He jotted down his thoughts on yellow pads, envelopes, folders, scrap paper. He wrote bite-sized philosophies about living with death's shadow: 'Accept what you are able to do and what you are not able to do'; 'Learn to forgive yourself and to forgive others'; 'Don't assume that it's too late to get involved.' " (page 18) One of the many reasons why Morrie is seen as an inspiring character is because even in the last days of his life, when his sickness becomes more serious, he sets goals and reflects on the way he wants to live the remainder of his life. One dominant social practice that Morrie consciously chooses to resist is succumbing to feelings of depression as his death drew near.  In the culture that we live in, it is common for people to retire and withdraw as they enter old age and their bodies and minds begin to fail. Morrie refuses to give in even as the illness renders him unable to move and he must rely on others to perform even the most simple and basic tasks.

As I read Tuesdays with Morrie, I asked myself whether or not I would be able to teach a class about my coming death. I felt as though I might be too embarrassed with my condition to allow people to study me while the illness gradually overcomes me.I imagined that this must be a common feeling among those who have fatal illnesses. When my mother was first diagnosed with cancer, my family chose to trust her illness in the hands of the doctors.  Western medicine called for treating lymphoma with chemotherapy; a poison applied to  remove the tumors. After this process, my mother began to lose her hair slowly. She prepared for the hair loss and bought a wig for when she would leave the house, or for when guests would come over. Personally, I thought the wig weirded me out. But I also felt uncomfortable with her hairless scalp. I realize now that not only was there an embarrassment that began to bud inside of her, but at the stage of adolescence that I was in, a similar embarrassment, of having a bald mother, bloomed inside of all my thoughts when we walked publicly. What embarrassed us both was the realization that her baldness made it clear to everyone that she was sick and dying.

Unlike Morrie who spoke openly about his illness and the coming of his death, my mother used the wig as a shield; a way to fit back into the society as society knew her- with long, curly hair that, to me represented her liveliness. Whereas Morrie spoke freely about his death, even appearing on television, my mother drew inward. She rarely saw friends, and spent most of her time drawing, sewing, painting and writing notebook entries. It was as though she was conserving her energy and channeling it into products that we could remember later. She never once shared with me what exactly was going on inside of her body. She closed off the illness inside of herself and didn't allow me to watch what happened to her. She didn't allow me to learn with her. And maybe it was my relationship with her illness and that caused her to keep the mysteries of her impending death to herself. I think that this is a result of a dominant social practice that remains strong at the root of our opinions on illness. We all understand that illness and dying is natural, but we don't want to accept what is happening. And once we see signs that our bodies are deteriorating, we try to hide it as best we can in order to try to maintain the appearance of being "normal", even if we are dying inside.