Farrah's Original Narrative

      I could feel the tears welling up as finished reading the last few words. As I closed the book my thoughts drifted to another place and time. Reading always had this wonderful effect on me, seeing the world through another set of eyes can really show you things in another perspective.

      The book I just finished was “Tuesdays with Morrie”. It told an intriguing story of an old professor, Morrie, who is dying of ALS disease. Morrie is reunited with an old student, named Mitch, who visits him every Tuesday until he dies. They converse about such deep and thought provoking topics as death and the meaning of life. Despite his limited time, Morrie still feels lucky for the opportunity he has to say goodbye to the ones he loves.

      The story really touched a special place in my heart. A few years ago I too lost someone very dear, my good friend Sharon. Sharon was a little older than me and I always considered her a mentor. She had a special way of treating me as a peer that showed me she valued my opinions. I best remember a particular conversation we had during a road trip through Ohio. It was rather warm that day for late fall, and we were talking about religion and spirituality. We shared similar beliefs but we both had different thoughts on an afterlife. Sharon believed in heaven, and asked me if I believed in heaven too. I told her I fancied the thought of reincarnation, and how I liked the thought of coming back as a butterfly, so I could fly and be free.

      We remained close even after Sharon moved to Kentucky. It wasn’t until my move to Florida that the distance took its toll. We grew further apart and our visits were mostly limited to the major holidays and school breaks. One Christmas, our plans to reunite were postponed due to a major blizzard. Instead we got to talk on the phone; it was then that Sharon told me she was being admitted to the hospital. Her cancer had come back for the third time, but she remained in good spirits.

      I was finally able to visit her in February, but by then the cancer had almost completely taken over her body. Her husband stopped me before I went into the room and told me she was really weak and could not stay wake very long. I was filled with a deep sadness as I walked in. She didn’t see me at first and she looked to be in so much pain. As she noticed me her face lit up and I saw the Sharon I always knew. The conversation went slow mainly because she could only speak in a whisper and I was trying too hard to mask my sadness.

“Do you think I’ll go to heaven when I die?” she asked.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind, no one deserves to more than you.” I answered.

“Do you still want to be reincarnated as a butterfly?” She chuckled until overcome with coughing.

Heartbroken, all I could say was “I think a butterfly would be nice.”

      After that she fell asleep for most of the visit. I remained next to her while she slept and thought about all the times we shared. Sharon was the warmest, most sincere person I’ve probably ever met. It was hard to see her lying there, knowing her chances of surviving the cancer this time were slim. I left that day just wishing for more time, and what I would have done if I had known earlier. A few weeks after my visit I got the phone call I had been dreading. Sharon had passed. In the book Mitch had fourteen Tuesday’s to spend with Morrie. In the end, I only had that one day with Sharon; at first I thought it wasn’t fair.

      It is amazing how one book can make you reevaluate the things you hold so dear. Reading can make you grow in ways you never thought possible. “Tuesdays with Morrie” flooded me with new thoughts and emotions. I had discovered a fresh outlook that changed my life. I finally realized I was lucky to have that one day. I was able to comfort her and still say goodbye, which is something some people never get to do. In the book, Mitch and Morrie agree that you should be “enjoying the one’s you love because you never know what can happen.” I try now to not take time for granted and to focus on the times we shared, not the time we missed. When I think of her now, I remember the Sharon I knew before she was sick. I feel that is what’s important, and what Sharon would have wanted most.