Tuesdays with Morrie

A week before Christmas, not too long ago, I found myself inside a bookstore looking for something to give as a present to one of my new-found friends. I wanted to give her something simple, yet very inspirational. Since non-fiction was my target category, I immediately rushed to the shelf where all the books about hope, love, faith, healing, coping, et al. were. It was quite difficult looking for just one book among a myriad of worthy candidates. To confound to my predicament, the book's cream-colored cover with tan borders did not appeal to me at first. It looked too plain, save for the embossed title in metallic blue and red. The one beside it had a baby-pink cover in hardbound print with floral design and a pink marker ribbon to boot, and spoke about friendship. It was a tough decision. As I read the reviews written in the back cover of Mitch Albom's "Tuesdays with Morrie", I decided to buy it; but I had to read it first, to find out if it would really be worth my friend's reading time.The story revolves around Morrie Schwartz and his extraordinary relationship with one of his college students, Mitch. It is a poignant article written about personal experiences gathered while witnessing how an older person battles against amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), which is the vital cog that holds this story together. Fragments of school life shared by both professor and student at Brandeis University would be briefly discussed all throughout the book, and these pieces of past memories give life to otherwise depressing issues about illness, aging and death. Craftily interwoven with the reality of seeing the daunting signs of ALS, more popularly known as Lou Gehrig's disease, is the author's personal battles with himself, his work and his family. The point is reached when someone's death gives rise to the "final thesis" which created purpose and meaning to the continuing relationships that the living has to face. This book is a reader's treasure of quotes, starting with the professor's teachings to the legacy of a dying man's words.

It was mentioned twice in the story that Morrie never liked lawyers. Therefore, my friend, who is a second-year law student, deserved another book. I did not wish to introduce myself as somebody who is trying to discourage her from pursuing her degree in law. The book, in contrast to what was originally intended, did not end up on my friend's table. And as I finished reading it, I realized that it was really meant for me. It was a gift I gave myself on Christmas Day.