- February 25, 2009 at 2:11 am #8363
In the conclusion of TWM, Mitch writes of his lessons with Morrie, “No books were required. The subject was the meaning of life. It was taught from experience. The teaching goes on.” Have you ever had a teacher or mentor like Morrie?May 18, 2009 at 2:13 am #8365
I had an amazing law teacher in high school. He had an amazing way of teaching the curriculum but also taught so much more than that. He managed to teach me a great deal about the world, as well as myself, and I know that everyone who took his classes loved him and everyone who didn’t, didn’t ever understand him. As for Tuesdays with Morrie, it is an astonishing book and I feel like I want to hear the story again and again. I just found it as an audio book (on http://www.audiobooks.net) which is a great! I don’t think I’ll ever tire of this book.May 26, 2009 at 2:13 am #8366
FROM MITCH ALBOM – thanks for that post. Don’t you find that when you have a great teacher like that, one of the qualities is the ability to make you feel like you are the first person he or she ever taught? As if the whole experience of teaching is this great treat and the teacher is getting to try it first on you? That’s how Morrie made me – and everyone he taught – feel. That’s why so many people who read that book and who had Morrie as a teacher come up to me and say, “I thought I was his favorite student!”mitch albomJune 3, 2009 at 2:13 am #8367
For me it is pretty simple. I had a few good teachers (couple of bad ones and a lot of average ones) but none that were even close to the level that Morrie was. None have affected my life in any significant and possitive way. But I do have an uncle M., who has taught me much about self esteem and the value of a human life. Of the potential that is still in me. He was the one that made it possible for me to keep on going, and make something of myself. His words about the closeness of people, of how they do affect each other even without realising it, have not just reached me but a whole lot of other people. And though I don’t nearly see him as often as I wish I did, he is still very dear to me and I respect him tremendously.September 5, 2009 at 2:13 am #8369
Joe Lazzaro,He was my Teacher for 7 years. He was my clinical model for how an acupuncturist should be. he became my model of waht it meant to be a human being again.He died in 2000 of liver failure. I ws fortunate in a number of ways. I read Tuesdays With Morrie and enjoyed it thoroughly (little knowing it was to be my primer for what was about to happen.) I passed the book on to my mentor Joe knowing he would enjoy it also.It was then that he reavealed to me he was, in fact, dying. There was, however, a somewhat risky procedure that could save his life. We were able to embark on the beginning of this journey. However, we began the process too late. He simply ran out of time. We were not able to complete the procedure.I had been his right hand at work for 7 years. He showed me everything about helping people out of pain and being there for them when that was all we had to give. At the end of his life I hope I was able to give some of that to him. I believe that hope did carry him through those last few months.I thank you again because if I had not given him your book, I am not sure he would have told me he was ill.You gave us a chance to fight together to save his life.After 10 years I bought another copy of Tuesdays with Morrie and one of my students took it up.October 7, 2009 at 2:14 am #8370
I only saw this man for a week, and only talked to him face-to-face once.
But he made such a difference to my life that words simply cannot describe it.
He taught me how to live.
Plain and simple as.
And I will always be thankful to Jack, a man who will always be my inspiration despite never seeing him, or hearing from him, except in the memories I have collected.
Thank you, Mitch, and Morrie, for making me cry.
I’ve never cried at a book before this one – Jack taught me how to live, but through your words, Mitch, Morrie woke me up.
Thank you.October 17, 2009 at 2:14 am #8371
I met the “Morrie” of my life in 1996. It was not something I expected at that time in my life. We met online. We talked for over a year, neither of us heard each other’s voice, nor knew what the other looked like. In a way we had to get to know each others “soul”. We share the same illness, and the fact we could die at any moment. I was just diagnosed, he had been living it since he was 30. He was my inspiration, my mountain, my rock, and when I felt “pity” he more or less told me to get over it. He came to mean the world to me and he became the very best friend I’ve ever had. He was my cup of coffee each and every morning and afternoon. Not a day went by we didn’t speak and after a year we decided to meet in person……He was shocked to find me living life in my 30’s, and he in his late 60’s. We lived in different States. We even had pet names for each other, We called one another “PITA 1 and PITA 2” I’m sure you can figure that one out 🙂
He and I both read Tuesdays With Morrie and it was like you wrote the book about the two of us that honest to God we both cried. Then we laughed caused we thought we looked like fools. We bonded for life he and I, who would’ve thought that the age between us couldn’t stop a friendship like that, my husband and his wife loved the fact we kept each other going. I thought this man was invincible, if he could do it, then so could I. Then one day….yep surgery… hospital….the last I spoke to him he told me he wanted to “go home” , I told him he would soon….I never got what he meant…till I had an awful feeling…I called the hospital and his wife answered and she was crying “Cathy, he is dying just now” I pulled my car over as I was driving when I had that feeling and I couldn’t move…..my “Morrie, my “coach” was gone.
My world has never been the same since then and I doubt it ever will. I lost my faith that day, I have lost so many that I have loved, but this man gave me a reason to look forward, this man my best friend who found humor in every possible way was gone. How does one find the faith they lost?
I lost him, my doctor tells me one more clot and I will not survive, I’m only 42 now, what happens to my kids ? My husbands workplace closed down without notice to anyone, leaving all workers without insurance, without jobs, almost for a year now, how does one find faith back from that ? Our house is in need of massive repairs but with no jobs, I can’t work I am disabled and my hard working husband who was with that company 23 years cannot find a job as there simply aren’t any……I keep doing good things because its the only thing that keeps me going and that’s what my “Pita” would’ve pushed me to do, but I think and I hope that your book can restore faith in others so that maybe this world changes a little.
Its so hard to even maintain a little faith.
Mitch, I have all your books (except Have a Little Faith) and I truly cherish them all, your writing touches my heart and I wish it was required reading in all schools. I know Tuesdays with Morrie because of myself and my daughter was read in her Advanced English Class. Please continue to write, it is inspirational. When I can afford your new book you can bet I will be there buying it. You did a wonderful job on the Dr. Phil show, your an amazing man. I did get all your dvd movies, my “morrie” and I a few years back bought them for one another 🙂December 8, 2009 at 2:14 am #8372
the FEMALE MORRIE of my life is MRS.SUSELYN CRUZ my college MARKETING prof. the only person that always coming out of my mind when im reading this book.just like morrie she is the most inspiring teacher for me…
she didnt just taught me about MARKETING
but she also taught me things about life..i remember when she saw me
reading this book she was like
“aww… Tuesday’s with Morrie”
hehehe… then she snatched the book to me
and said.. let me borrow this!
hahaha….funny thing is sometimes
i call her MORRIE!
🙂January 27, 2010 at 8:46 am #8373
Dear Mitch Albom,
Your novel “Tuesdays with Morrie” grabbed my favorite organ, the one I call the heart, from my chest and held it captive as I eagerly flipped through the pages of your story. This love affair with your novels all started years ago, after I read your other heart-wrenching story, “The Five People you Meet in Heaven”. I was probably twelve or so, and to be honest, I only read it because my mentor, otherwise known as my older sister Chloe, was reading it in one of her English classes. She droned on and on about how sad it was, and how it completely changed her sixteen-year-old perspective on life. Being the tag-a-long I was, I decided to crack open the tiny book and read a few pages myself. After the first chapter I was lost, and not in a bad way. Everything from the perspective of writing to the descriptive detail captivated me. Probably, as no surprise to you, as I flipped through the final pages I was crying like a running faucet with a broken handle. As my sister glared at me, thinking I was too naïve to be reading the works of her favorite author, I put up an invisible force field, and waited hungrily for your next book to pop up on the shelves of our local library. “Tuesdays”, though published before “The Five People You Meet in Heaven”, suddenly appeared in my life as a new book. My sister quickly read through it, and then passed it down to me, now thirteen and ravenous for more life lessons. I skimmed through the first chapter, grew tired and set it aside, not realizing I wouldn’t get back to the book until I was sixteen and a junior in high school.
As years passed quickly and my guru went off to pursue higher education, she sent me a book or two every now and then, claiming it would forever change my life. Some I read, some I scanned, some I devoured, and others, I cast aside, insisting it would have to wait for a rainy day. The rainy day finally came as I sat down and attempted to read your brilliant “For One More Day”. I got to the fifth or so chapter, put it down, mind wandering elsewhere, and promised my psyche that I would eventually pick it back up, if only I could find a day where my mind wanted to interpret the information you were trying to feed me. The sands of time slipped through my fingers again, and I found myself a little older, a little wiser, and a little more ready to comprehend.
My yearbook advisor, Mrs. Emily Randolph, assigned your book “Tuesdays”, as the first book we would read together in the new book club she was starting at my school. I immediately sprinted to my sister’s enormous bookshelf, tore through it, and called her twice, both times to complain about her horrendous attempt at the Dewey Decimal System. Finally, there it was, resting on the top shelf. I could have sworn a single ray of light shone down upon it and I heard angels sing as I reached for my Holy Grail. I swiftly finished my homework, got into my comfiest pajamas, and sat down with my treasure, as if it were a long lost friend. I spent that night and most of the following day reading through it, taking my time to mark the quotes that moved me, and the tidbits of information that were slowly morphing my outlook on my existence.
One evening, as my journey with “Tuesdays” was coming to an end, I cried harder than I had in almost a year. Morrie was nearing the end, and your writing was beginning to paint an identical portrait of my grandfather in my mind. He, unlike Morrie, didn’t have time to say his final farewells. He was never diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, but we all knew he possessed it. My grandfather had forgotten me, and when I left his nursing home bed one day, silent tears falling off my cheeks, I realized the grandfather I had known my whole life was gone.
The aphorisms in the book took on a life of their own. They grabbed hold of my seemingly mediocre existence, and changed my teenage-drama-queen perspective on life. Don’t hold back on life; give it your all, for you will never know when your days will end. Always say what you need to before it’s too late, and never forget or lose the ones who shaped and molded your life even in the simplest of ways. Whether they were a teacher who suggested a life changing novel, a friend who told you to be strong even in the face of adversity, or a grandfather who, though never had the chance to let you know the important things in life, was always there to provide a helpful smile or a good laugh, and constantly around to play one great game of cards.Thanks for the Words of Wisdom,
Margeaux PerkinsApril 6, 2010 at 8:47 am #8375
We sat at the window and watched the rainbow and without any words, we said goodbye, we smiled at each other and tears rolled down and up over my cheek, when i left the room he left too. Miss you.April 16, 2010 at 2:13 am #8368
First of all, I want to thank you for writing such an inspiring book. I wanted to share with you that I have a Morrie in my life. He was my 6th grade teacher, Mr. G. Mr. G truly fostered a compelling sense of success in the classroom. His passion for teaching and road map to success provided his students with the empowering force to shine brightly. He saw the talents I had inside and enthusiastically encouraged me to achieve my greatest potential. Mr. G was recently diagnosed with ALS. He has been going through a tough time and I have even gone to visit him in the hospital. He is currently in the process of publishing his own book. It is a book for young educators, where he shares his “trade secrets” of the classroom. I really hope he gets to see the finished project. Mr. G was a true inspiration in my life and he continues to touch me and teach me new life lessons. I felt compelled to share this story with you. Little did you know how many people’s lives you have changed upon sharing Morrie with us. Thank you!!April 16, 2010 at 8:47 am #8376
Mr. Albom: Our Mitch, Mr. Robert Grossi aka Mr. G, who was my insipring 6th grade teacher, who also has ALS (that I previously posted about on 08/18/09) has published his book!!! It is called: See! Believe! Achieve! by Robert Grossi. I had to share the wonderful news with you! Here are the links to the book’s publisher and amazon. http://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=978-1-61566-570-9http://www.amazon.com/See-Believe-Achieve-ebook/dp/B003EYUE78September 22, 2010 at 8:47 am #8377
the morrie in my life was def. my mom, she lived life to the fullest every single day. she was told she had a brain tumor and only months to live and it never stopped her, just like morrie as each day passed she grew weaker, but she gave out wisdom and talked to people like everything was ok. she was never afraid to die. she gave me so many life lessons to live by, the greatest is, never take anything for granted because life is short. just love people and laugh at the little things, the simple things in life are the greatest joys.December 29, 2010 at 8:48 am #8378
Dear Mr. Albom,
I just finished reading Tuesdays with Morrie. I read it all in one night because I just couldn’t put it down! When I was reading the last few pages, it hit me: I had a Morrie of my own. Maybe my experience with her wasn’t quite so profound, but hey, I’m only in high school anyway. The Morrie in my life was my first grade teacher, Mrs. Kemerer. She was my very favorite teacher. She was kind but firm and very caring. After reading Tuesdays with Morrie, I really wished that I could call her and talk with her about life. Unfortunately, that’s no longer possible, as she lost the fight to breast cancer a few years after I had her as a teacher. The saddest part is that she had a young son, about three years younger than me. Until reading this story, I had all but forgotten about her. This story made me realize what an impact she had on me. Thanks for writing an inspiring book!January 28, 2011 at 8:48 am #8379
I had two Morries.
I had an American Literature teacher in high school by the name of Mae Tabor. She taught me an appreciation of reading and English grammar. I have been told that I have above average writing and speaking ability and I owe it to this woman. She was strict and scored my essays with scrutiny with regard to spelling and proper grammar. She also taught me to appreciate the American authors because we not only had to write critical reviews of their works but we were required to know their biographies.
My second Morrie was a communications professor from college. His name was Robert Bookwalter. He taught me how to effectively speak and listen, both of which are crucial to good communication skills. He, too, was strict with both, written and oral, communications projects.
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