The Third Tuesday We Talk About Regrets

The next Tuesday, I arrived with the normal bags of food-pasta with corn, potato salad, apple cobbler--and something else: a Sony tape recorder.

I want to remember what we talk about, I told Morrie. I want to have your voice so I can listen to it . . . later.

"When I'm dead." Don't say that.

He laughed. "Mitch, I'm going to die. And sooner, not later."

He regarded the new machine. "So big," he said. I felt intrusive¹, as reporters often do, and I began to think that a tape machine between two people who were supposedly friends was a foreign object, an artificial ear. With all the people clamoring for his time, perhaps I was trying to take too much away from these Tuesdays.

Listen, I said, picking up the recorder. We don't have to use this. If it makes you uncomfortable

He stopped me, wagged a finger, then hooked his glasses off his nose, letting them dangle² on the string around his neck. He looked me square in the eye. "Put it down," he said.

I put it down.

"Mitch," he continued, softly now, "you don't understand. I want to tell you about my life. I want to tell you before I can't tell you anymore."

His voice dropped to a whisper. "I want someone to hear my story. Will you?"

I nodded.

We sat quietly for a moment.

"So," he said, "is it turned on?"

Now, the truth is, that tape recorder was more than nostalgia³. I was losing Morrie, we were all losing Morrie--his family, his friends, his ex-students, his fellow professors, his pals⁴ from the political discussion groups that he loved so much, his former dance partners, all of us. And I suppose tapes, like photographs and videos, are a desperate attempt to steal something from death's suitcase.

But it was also becoming clear to me -through his courage, his humor, his patience, and his openness-that Morrie was looking at life from some very different place than anyone else I knew. A healthier place. A more sensible place. And he was about to die.

If some mystical clarity of thought came when you looked death in the eye, then I knew Morrie wanted to share it. And I wanted to remember it for as long as I could.

The first time I saw Morrie on "Nightline," 1 wondered what regrets he had once he knew his death was imminent⁵. Did he lament⁶ lost friends? Would he have done much differently? Selfishly, I wondered if I were in his shoes, would I be consumed with sad thoughts of all that I had missed? Would I regret the secrets I had kept hidden?

When I mentioned this to Morrie, he nodded. "It's what everyone worries about, isn't it? What if today were my last day on earth?" He studied my face, and perhaps he saw an ambivalence⁷ about my own choices. I had this vision of me keeling over at my desk one day, halfway⁸ through a story, my editors snatching the copy even as the medics carried my body away.

"Mitch?" Morrie said.

I shook my head and said nothing. But Morrie picked up on my hesitation⁹.

"Mitch," he said, "the culture doesn't encourage you to think about such things until you're about to die. We're so wrapped up with egotistical things, career, family, having enough money, meeting the mortgage, getting a new car, fixing the radiator¹⁰ when it breaks-we're involved in trillions of little acts just to keep going. So we don't get into the habit of standing¹¹ back and looking at our lives and saying, Is this all? Is this all I want? Is something missing?"

He paused.

"You need someone to probe you in that direction. It won't just happen automatically."

I knew what he was saying. We all need teachers in our lives.

And mine was sitting in front of me.

Fine, I figured. If I was to be the student, then I would be as good a student as I could be.

On the plane ride home that day, I made a small list on a yellow legal pad, issues and questions that we all grapple with, from happiness to aging to having children to death. Of course, there were a million self-help books on these subjects, and plenty of cable TV shows, and $9oper-hour consultation¹² sessions. America had become a Persian bazaar¹³ of self-help.

But there still seemed to be no clear answers. Do you take care of others or take care of your "inner child"? Return to traditional values or reject tradition as useless? Seek success or seek simplicity¹⁴? Just Say No or just Do It? All I knew was this: Morrie, my old professor, wasn't in the self-help business. He was standing on the tracks, listening to death's locomotive whistle, and he was very clear about the important things in life.

I wanted that clarity. Every confused and tortured soul I knew wanted that clarity.

"Ask me anything," Morrie always said.

So I wrote this list:

Death
Fear
Aging
Greed
Marriage
Family
Society
Forgiveness
A meaningful life

The list was in my bag when I returned to West Newton for the fourth time, a Tuesday in late August when the air-conditioning at the Logan Airport terminal was not working, and people fanned themselves and wiped sweat angrily from their foreheads, and every face I saw looked ready to kill somebody.

By the start of my senior year, I have taken so many sociology classes, I am only a few credits shy of a degree. Morrie suggests I try an honors thesis.

Me? I ask. What would I write about?

"What interests you?" he says.

We bat it back and forth¹⁵, until we finally settle on, of all things, sports. I begin a year-long project on how football in America has become ritualistic, almost a religion, an opiate for the masses. I have no idea that this is training for my future career. I only know it gives me another once-a-week session with Morrie.

And, with his help, by spring I have a 112 page thesis, researched, footnoted, documented, and neatly¹⁶ bound in black leather. I show it to Morrie with the pride of a Little Leaguer rounding the bases on his first home run.

"Congratulations," Morrie says.

I grin as he leafs through it, and I glance around his office. The shelves of books, the hardwood floor, the throw rug, the couch. I think to myself that I have sat just about everywhere there is to sit in this room.

"I don't know, Mitch," Morrie muses¹⁷, adjusting his glasses as he reads, "with work like this, we may have to get you back here for grad school."

Yeah, right, I say.

I snicker, but the idea is momentarily appealing. Part of me is scared of leaving school. Part of me wants to go desperately¹⁸. Tension of opposites. I watch Morrie as he reads my thesis, and wonder what the big world will be like out there.

   接下来的一个星期二，我同往常一样带了几袋食品--意大利玉米面食，土豆色拉，苹果馅饼--来到了莫里家。我还带了一样东西：一只索尼录音机。
   我想记住我们的谈话，我对莫里说。我想录下你的声音，等……以后再听。
   "等我死后。"
   别说死。
   他笑了。"米奇，我会死的，而且很快。"
   他打量着这台新机器。"这么大，"他说。我顿时有一种冒犯的感觉，这是记者们常有的，我开始意识到，朋友之间放上一台录音机确实会令人觉得异样和不自然，现在有那么多人想分享莫里的时间，我这么做是不是索取得太多了？
   听着，我拿回录音机说，我们不一定要使用这玩艺。如果它让你感到不自在--
   他拦住我，摇摇手指，又从鼻梁上取下眼镜，眼镜由一根绳子系着挂在脖子上。他正视着我说，"把它放下。"
   我放下了机器。
   "米奇，"他接着说，语气柔和了些，"你不明白。我想告诉你我的生活。我要趁我还能讲的时候把一切都告诉你。"
   他的声音变得更弱了。"我想有人来听我的故事。你愿意吗？"
   我点点头。
   我们静静地坐了片刻。
   "好吧，"他说，"按下录音了？"
   实情是，这台录音机不仅仅起着怀旧的作用，我即将失去莫里，所有的人都即将失去他--他的家庭，他的朋友，他以前的学生，他的同事，和他十分有感情的时事讨论小组的伙伴，他从前的舞友，所有的人。我想这些磁带或许能像照片或影带那样，不失时机地再从死亡箱里窃取到一些东西。
   但我也越来越清楚地意识到一他的勇气。他的幽默。他的耐心和他的坦然告诉了我--莫里看待人生的态度是和别人不一样的。那是一种更为健康的态度，更为明智的态度。而且他即将离我们而去。
   第一次在"夜线"节目中见到莫里时，我不禁在想，当他知道死亡已经临近时他会有什么样的遗憾。他悲叹逝去的友人？他会重新改变生活方式？暗地里我在想，要是我处在他的位置，我会不会满脑子都是苦涩的念头，抱憾即将失去的一切？抱憾没有吐露过的秘密？
   当我把这些想法告诉莫里时，他点点头。"这是每个人都要担心的，不是吗？如果今天是我的死期，我会怎么样？"他审视着我的脸，也许他看出了我难以作出选择的心理。我想到有那么一天，我在写新闻稿时突然倒在了工作台上，当救护人员把我抬走时，主编们却急着拿我的稿子。
   "米奇？"莫里问。
   我摇摇头，没吱声。莫里看出了我的矛盾心理。
   "米奇，"他说，"我们的文化不鼓励你去思考这类问题，所以你只有在临死前才会去想它。我们所关注的是一些很自私的事情：事业，家庭，赚钱，偿还抵押贷款，买新车，修取暖器--陷在永无止境的琐事里，就为了活下去。因此，我们不习惯退后一步，审视一下自己的生活问，就这些？这就是我需要的一切？是不是还缺点什么？"
   他停顿了一下。
   "你需要有人为你指点一下。生活不会一蹴而就的。"
   我知道他在说什么。我们在生活中都需要有导师的指引。
   而我的导师就坐在我的对面。
   好的，我暗想。如果我准备当那个学生，那我就尽力当个好学生。
   那天坐飞机回底特律时，我在黄拍纸簿上列出了一份目录，都是我们要涉及到的话题，从幸福到衰老，从生育到死亡，当然，这类题材的自助书有成千上万种，还不包括有线电视里的节目和九十美元一小时的咨询课。美国早已成了兜售自助玩艺的波斯集市了。
   但好像还是没有一个明确的答案，该去关心他人还是关心自己的心灵世界？该恢复传统的价值观还是摈弃传统？该追求成功还是追求淡泊？该说不还是该去做？
   我所知道的是：我的老教授莫里并没有去赶自助的时髦。他站在铁轨上，听着死亡列车的汽笛，心中十分清楚生活中最重要的是什么。
   我需要这份醒豁。每个感到困惑和迷惘的人都需要这份醒豁。
   "向我提问题，"莫里一直这么说。
   于是我列出了这份目录：
   死亡
   恐惧
   衰老
   欲望
   婚姻
   家庭
   社会
   原谅
   有意义的人生
   当我第四次回到西纽顿时，这份目录就在我的包里。那是八月下旬的一个星期二，洛根机场的中央空调出了故障，人们打着扇子。忿忿地从额头上擦去汗水，我看见的每一张脸都像吃人一般的可怕。
   大学的最后一年刚刚开始时，我已经修完了好几门社会学课程，离拿学位只差几个学分了。莫里建议我写一篇优等生毕业论文①。
   ①论文通过后可获得荣誉学位。
   我？我问道。写什么？
   "你对什么感兴趣？"
   我们讨论来讨论去，最后决定写体育。我开始了为期一年的论文课程，写美国的橄榄球如何成为了一种仪式、成了大众宗教和麻醉剂。我没想到这是对我今后事业的一次实习和锻炼。我当时只知道它为我提供了与莫里一星期见一次面的机会。
   在他的帮助下，我到了春天便写出了一份长这一百十二页的论文，论文有资料，有注释，有引证，还用黑皮子作封面，装订得十分漂亮。我带着一个少年棒球手跑出他第一个本垒打后的那份自豪和得意，把它交到了莫里的手里。
   "祝贺你，"莫里说。   他在翻看我的论文时我好不得意。我打量着他的办公室：书橱、硬木地板、地毯、沙发。我心里在想，这屋里凡是能坐的地方我都坐过了。
   "米奇，"莫里扶正了一下眼镜，若有所思地说。"能写出这样的论文，也许我们该叫你回来读研究生。"
   好啊，我说。
   我暗暗在发笑，但这个建议一时倒也挺有诱惑力的。我既怕离开学校，又急着想离开它。反向力。我望着在看论文的莫里，心里忖度着外面的大千世界。

1 intrusive   

adj.打搅的；侵扰的

参考例句：

• The cameras were not an intrusive presence.那些摄像机的存在并不令人反感。
• Staffs are courteous but never intrusive.员工谦恭有礼却从不让人感到唐突。

2 dangle   

v.(使)悬荡，(使)悬垂

参考例句：

• At Christmas,we dangle colored lights around the room.圣诞节时，我们在房间里挂上彩灯。
• He sits on the edge of the table and dangles his legs.他坐在桌子边上，摆动著双腿。

3 nostalgia   

n.怀乡病，留恋过去，怀旧

参考例句：

• He might be influenced by nostalgia for his happy youth.也许是对年轻时幸福时光的怀恋影响了他。
• I was filled with nostalgia by hearing my favourite old song.我听到这首喜爱的旧歌，心中充满了怀旧之情。

4 pals   

n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙

参考例句：

• We've been pals for years. 我们是多年的哥们儿了。
• CD 8 positive cells remarkably increased in PALS and RP(P CD8+细胞在再生脾PALS和RP内均明显增加(P 来自互联网

5 imminent   

adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的

参考例句：

• The black clounds show that a storm is imminent.乌云预示暴风雨即将来临。
• The country is in imminent danger.国难当头。

6 lament   

n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹

参考例句：

• Her face showed lament.她的脸上露出悲伤的样子。
• We lament the dead.我们哀悼死者。

7 ambivalence   

n.矛盾心理

参考例句：

• She viewed her daughter's education with ambivalence.她看待女儿的教育问题态度矛盾。
• She felt a certain ambivalence towards him.她对他的态度有些矛盾。

8 halfway   

adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途

参考例句：

• We had got only halfway when it began to get dark.走到半路，天就黑了。
• In study the worst danger is give up halfway.在学习上，最忌讳的是有始无终。

9 hesitation   

n.犹豫，踌躇

参考例句：

• After a long hesitation, he told the truth at last.踌躇了半天，他终于直说了。
• There was a certain hesitation in her manner.她的态度有些犹豫不决。

10 radiator   

n.暖气片，散热器

参考例句：

• The two ends of the pipeline are connected with the radiator.管道的两端与暖气片相连接。
• Top up the radiator before making a long journey.在长途旅行前加满散热器。

11 standing   

n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的

参考例句：

• After the earthquake only a few houses were left standing.地震过后只有几幢房屋还立着。
• They're standing out against any change in the law.他们坚决反对对法律做任何修改。

12 consultation   

n.咨询；商量；商议；会议

参考例句：

• The company has promised wide consultation on its expansion plans.该公司允诺就其扩展计划广泛征求意见。
• The scheme was developed in close consultation with the local community.该计划是在同当地社区密切磋商中逐渐形成的。

13 bazaar   

n.集市，商店集中区

参考例句：

• Chickens,goats and rabbits were offered for barter at the bazaar.在集市上，鸡、山羊和兔子被摆出来作物物交换之用。
• We bargained for a beautiful rug in the bazaar.我们在集市通过讨价还价买到了一条很漂亮的地毯。

14 simplicity   

n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯

参考例句：

• She dressed with elegant simplicity.她穿着朴素高雅。
• The beauty of this plan is its simplicity.简明扼要是这个计划的一大特点。

15 forth   

adv.向前；向外，往外

参考例句：

• The wind moved the trees gently back and forth.风吹得树轻轻地来回摇晃。
• He gave forth a series of works in rapid succession.他很快连续发表了一系列的作品。

16 neatly   

adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地

参考例句：

• Sailors know how to wind up a long rope neatly.水手们知道怎样把一条大绳利落地缠好。
• The child's dress is neatly gathered at the neck.那孩子的衣服在领口处打着整齐的皱褶。

17 muses   

v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事）

参考例句：

• We have listened too long to the courtly muses of Europe. 欧洲那种御用的诗才，我们已经听够了。 来自辞典例句
• Shiki muses that this is, at least, probably the right atmosphere. 志贵觉得这至少是正确的气氛。 来自互联网

18 desperately   

adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地

参考例句：

• He was desperately seeking a way to see her again.他正拼命想办法再见她一面。
• He longed desperately to be back at home.他非常渴望回家。