Imagine, there is a little bird on your shoulder. Hey, little bird, am I going to die today? Am I ready to die now? Am I living as I wished to be? Am I the person who I wished to be?
There is a book by Mitch Albom with the name Tuesdays with Morrie. It is an inspirational book. The work has resulted in a positive transformation in the lives of thousands. It is actually a memoir of the author. In this, he summarizes his conversation, during his visits on Tuesdays, with Morrie Schwartz, who has been his professor of Sociology.
Mitch Albom has been a sports columnist in a newspaper. One day he happens to see his old Sociology Professor, Morrie Schwartz, on a channel’s ‘Nightline’ program. Learning that Morrie is dying of an illness, Motor Neuron Disease, Mitch decides to pay a visit to him.
Mitch’s visit to his Professor Morrie happened to be on a Tuesday. Thereafter, he repeats his visits to his professor every Tuesday. The relationship between them has been growing stronger after each visit. Lessons of life like love, death, life, patience came up for discussion during each visit. Mitch made 14 visits, on 14 Tuesdays.
A movie with the same title, Tuesdays with Morrie was released in 1999. The subject matter both in the book and in the movie are similar. The Professor has been nearing death moment by moment. He has been ready to welcome death joyfully.
”The truth is, once you learn how to die, you learn how to live,” has been his view. It is true that only one who has learned to die can live properly.
Mitch has been convinced after each visit that Professor Morrie’s health was deteriorating. Once during the visit Mitch notices Morrie becoming very uneasy as if going through severe pain. Mitch appears to be very sad. Then Morrie consoles him with the words:
“Don’t be so sad as if I am going to die.”
He added with a smile on his face:
“Everyone is moving towards death; including you.”
Mitch reacts as if he has been listening to something strange or unexpected. But Morrie continues with a smiling face:
“Each one actually takes a step towards death every second; but most of us are unaware of it and do not seem to believe it.”
After a few moments of silence, Morrie reveals a secret that can help make each of our days beautiful:
”Imagine that we have a little bird on our shoulders. The Buddhists, for instance, think so. We have a little bird on our shoulders. Let’s ask that little bird each day:
“Hey, little bird, is this the day I‘m to die? Am I ready to die?”
“Am I living now the way I want to live?”
“Am I what I wanted to be?”
Morrie concludes looking straight into the eyes of Mitch:
“If we accept the fact that we are going to die any moment, we would do things very differently. So, ask each day, is this the day I’m to die?”
Next Tuesday when Mitch visited Morrie’s house a big celebration was going on there. Morrie’s wife, children and loved ones enjoy themselves singing and dancing. They say nice things about each other. Mitch asks:
“What’s going on?”
Morrie’s house nurse replies:
“This is a live funeral. Morrie wished to witness his own funeral while he is alive. Now his wife, children and the loved ones are all participating in it.”
Mitch smiles broad as he had never heard of things like that. He joyfully participates in the celebration. At the end, Morrie asks everyone to be quiet. Then he informs that he also has a few things to say. He begins reciting a few lines from W. H. Auden’s poem September 1, 1939:
All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie
The lie of authority
Whose buildings grope the sky.
No one exists alone
Hunger allows no choice to the citizen or police
We must love one another or die
This poem is set in the context of the World War II. The title of the poem, September 1, 1939, is very significant. It was the date of Nazi Germany’s invasion of Poland. Even if we forget World War II and the Nazis, these lines of the poem are very meaningful. We must love each other or we will die. Only those who love have life. It is also true that those we love will live on even if they die.
Morrie is engrossed in the poem, and closing his eyes he explains the meaning of the poem to his children. He has a kind of celestial experience. At the end he opens his eyes and repeats the last line of the stanza:
“We must love one another or die.”
This time every word is pronounced distinctively and his eyes are full of tears.
During the last-but-one Tuesday visit Morrie and Mitch have been conversing on forgiveness. For Morrie has been struggling for years not being able to forgive his father.
“My complaint was that my father did not love me. But all that time I have been throwing at him my tangled heart. I could not see what was within his mind.”
Morrie remembers his father with deep grief:
”God, he was really a poor man. He suffered a lot during his lifetime. I was selfish. I never thought about anything other than my own needs. God, did I not waste everything?”
Morrie, wishing that no one may repeat the failures that occurred in his own life, tells Mitch very firmly:
“Forgive everybody, everything. Now! Don’t wait! Not everybody has the time that I avail myself.”
Death can occur at any moment. If you postpone forgiveness hoping that you will be able to forgive later, it may not necessarily happen in accordance with your wish. This is an advice for people of any age. We can refer to many good things that did not come off due to such postponements.
Morrie looked very tired on Tuesday, the last time Mitch visited him. It was snowing. Morrie says to Mitch whose eyes looked very sad:
“Death ends life. Not relationships.”
No relationship ends with death. On the contrary, many deaths strengthen the relationships.
“Poor Mitch, you don’t even know how to say good bye,” Morrie says, grabbing Mitch’s hands.
Morrie tells Mitch that his final resting place is under a tree on a hill, and there is a tarn nearby.
”Won’t you come to my grave in order to share your problems?” Morrie asked.
“But, you won’t talk,” replies Mitch.
”You can talk when I’m dead; I will be listening,” Morrie assures.
“You still have to know many more things. Definitely you will know them,” Morrie adds.
These words were a promise to Mitch that he will continue receiving his messages and blessings even after his death.
They part saying “will see you next Tuesday.”
It was still snowing outside.
Actually, it was their last meeting. Morrie passed away on that Saturday. His was a quiet and peaceful passing. The funeral was to be held on the following Tuesday. In fact they meet on Tuesday as they had planned!
A beautiful poem has been recited at the funeral. Morrie’s son is in tears as he recites the poem. As they hold their hands, with soil, over the casket the words of the poem seem to transform into whimpering! The poem is from the Second Scene of the Third Act of Shakespeare’s play Romeo and Juliet:
When he shall die take him
And cut him out in the stars
And he will make
The face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be
In love with night
And worship not the garish sun
This is Juliet’s prayer to the gods; a prayer to make Romeo a star in the sky.
At the death of our loved ones, we too can pray to God similarly:
“O God, save our loved ones in the eternity forever.”
The Tuesdays spent with Morrie transformed Mitch’s entire life. His personal, social, professional and marital life improved a lot. He learned how to live well. Morrie’s death has taught Mitch how to live better. These Tuesdays were a time of revelations for both of them. Days with revelations as to how one can see life more brightly!
As for me, certain days shed more light on my life. I also wanted to find more time to be with my sister after she was diagnosed with cancer. Similar changes occurred not only in the members of my own family, but also in the nuns belonging to my sister’s religious community.
For Mitch it was Tuesdays, but for me it was Sundays. After my sister was diagnosed with the illness I made it a point that I would spare more time to be with my sister, especially on Sundays. The community of nuns, where my sister was a member, was in need of a priest to celebrate Holy Mass on Sundays for the sick and aged who were unable to walk to the parish church. I offered to celebrate Sunday Mass for them, and I was gladly welcomed. For the community this arrangement turned out to be a blessing.
Thus my sister Jessy and I started to meet regularly on Sundays, before and after the Holy Mass. We discussed various topics. Many of our worries and doubts on certain things were cleared during such conversations. We were able to console and comfort each other. On one such Sunday something rather strange happened which completely altered my life. That Sunday too, I met my sister as soon as I reached there. She greeted me and said:
“I have to make my confession.”
”I can make arrangements for that with one of the priests I know,” I replied.
Usually a priest visits the convent once every fortnight to hear confession. Last time, when the priest visited, Sister Jessy couldn’t have her confession because she just have had her chemotherapy and was very much exhausted.
When I told her that I would make arrangements with another priest her immediate response was, “No.” Then she looked into my eyes and gestured with her finger that she wants to make her confession with me.
I was a bit surprised. So far, in my priestly life, I have administered the sacrament of confession to many, but not to anyone from my own family. To be honest, I didn’t feel like hearing the confession of my own sister. During the Mass that day, my prayer was for the courage to hear the confession of my own sister. After the Mass I became a confessor. After the confession I raised my hand to give the absolution and blessing:
May our Lord and God, Jesus Christ, through the grace and mercies of his love for human kind, forgive you all your transgressions. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Eyes of both of us shed tears of joy.
Even today, on certain Sundays, I wake up in the morning with a thought – I must go to Palai for Mass! I convince myself that such journeys are over forever; and now I’m alone on Sundays!
Fr. G. Kadooparayil MCBS