I’ve taken a bit of a sabbatical from reading books lately. Since starting my blog, I have been reading so many other posts (from freshly pressed as well as keeping up with subscriptions) that I just plumb haven’t taken the time to read books. Last week, I was feeling a bit under the weather. So this was obviously a great opportunity to get back on track. After seeing this post, I decided to visit an old friend. I picked up Tuesday’s with Morrie, by Mitch Albom. It is one of my very favorite books. It touched my heart this time as much as it did during our last visits.
Morrie, an old college professor has been diagnosed with Lou Gerhig’s disease (ALS). He then begins teaching his last class with an old student. A lesson in dying. Mitch and Morrie meet every Tuesday to discuss topics such as life, love and compassion. Morrie has a philosophy about dying that is unlike anything I have been able to experienced. The gift of time is a miraculous thing when utilized in a positive way. Morrie spent his final days learning and spending time with those he loved.
Books give me an opportunity to emerse myself in another world. They’re like a movie in my brain. That’s why I love them so much. They are an outlet, a space to decompress, a place to relate to others, to learn from them. Especially after reading about someone like Morrie, I evaluate my personal character. How would I act in a similar situation? Would I be able to keep my spirits up and live on like Morrie? I’d like to think that I could. I hope to have time to say goodbye to those I love. To be at peace with death before it takes me. Unfortunately, there are no guarantees in life and you just never know how you will go… until you go.
Don’t take this the wrong way, but if I go before my time, here are 10 guidelines for my family to remember:
1. I’m an organ donor. Give ’em away. They’re no good to me anymore.
2. If I am on life support, give me a year. If there are no changes, cut me loose. No sense in living like that.
3. Give yourself some time to cry, but don’t over do it.
4. Don’t set me on the mantel. Its just gross. Cremate me (1/2 of me goes to my husband and 1/2 to my parents). I have been concidering having my parents spread me at Hampton Beach NH (A childhood favorite vacation spot) and having my husband spread me at Alki Beach in Seattle (my favorite beach spot in the West) but I’m not fully decided. I just don’t want to be hanging around so you can look at me and be sad.
5. Eat all of my favorite foods in celebration, including all the gluten you can find! Chocolate cake with vanilla frosting is a must.
6. Laugh at my memorial service.
7. If I leave you college loans, know that I am very, very, very sorry!
8. Michael – If I go first, sell my car and donate my stuff (including my books). You can keep some things but you have 3 months or less to get rid of the “stuff” (clothes, toiletries, shoes etc.) (yeah, I kinda stole that from P.S. I Love You)
9. Don’t bother with a headstone. Its unnecessary.
10. I love you all very much and I be watching you…
Hopefully that wasn’t terribly morbid, but it had to be done I suppose. Now, the whole world knows and my wishes won’t be in jeopardy.
Now, because I am glad to still be living, I want to make it worth my while. I have a couple of resolutions to make. Here goes!
A. I will partake in some sort of exercise 3 times a week.
B. I will read 30 books in 2011.
C. I will continue to write to you fine people at least 2 times a week (and keep you posted on my progress).
Well, I think that’s probably good for now… we’ll see how I do with that and possibly add more later on.
Live on and write on with gusto, fellow bloggers.