Mondays with Morris

On March 14, 2016, Morris turned 100 years old — a Jewish man born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. Our biographies were different, and our theologies didn’t match but our hearts were in unison with all that really mattered in life — love and respect for humanity. Instantly, I fell in love with Morris who exuded joy, emanated peace and enjoyed people. His sense humor and generous spirit are extremely rare among patients of his age and diagnosis. He was happy and content. Although his body was weak, his mind was sharp, and he could engage in meaningful conversations.

During the last two years in hospice care, I have visited Morris once a month, mostly on Mondays. He provided me with the mental boost I needed for the week. I call this story Mondays with Morris because of its similarities to elements of Mitch Albom’s book, Tuesdays with Morrie — an old man, a young man and life’s greatest lesson. Even on his deathbed, Morrie the mensch taught Mitch how to live robustly and fully. Morris has done the same for me during the last two years of my interactions with him.

One day, during a life-review session, I asked Morris, “What is the secret of a happy life?” and he replied: “Serve people.”

Morris served in the US Air force for 24 years. For 11 years, he was a draw-bridge operator in Florida. For 8 hours a day five days a week, he had to manage the bridge on the intra-coastal waterway, to let boats pass underneath it. He did that job joyfully because he was serving people. When I asked him if he felt jealous of the rich people in those boats who were having fun and he had to do his apparently monotonous job, he said: “I had my fun when I was young, I don’t begrudge them having fun.”

For 17 years, he volunteered at the Veteran’s Hospital in Miami. One of his duties was to organize the Bingo games. “Seeing happiness on the face of others is my happiness,” he said.

Me: “If you could travel to one more place or do one more thing, what would that be?”

Morris: “I would like to go to Haiti and help the people. They are poor people living there. They are nice people. The aide who takes care of me is from Haiti. I love her.” Other patients have replied to similar questions with answers such as: “I want to take one more cruise;” or “I want to go for one more vacation to Europe.”

Me: “How do you find joy in a boring place like this assisted living facility?”

Morris: “I look forward to everyday as a blessing. At my age, any day could be my last day, so I take advantage of every minute I have left.”

Me: “You are totally dependent on others for your survival; how can that be a blessing?”

Morris: “I am still breathing and I am not hungry; that is a blessing.”

I sat in front this old man examining my own feelings and attitude towards life. At age 65, I have an over-flow of blessings in all areas of my life and yet I am not grateful enough. I hope I would think and feel and behave like Morris when I reach his age. Morris humbles me, challenges me, inspires me, and confirms my conviction that serving others is the best route to true happiness. He is an amazing example and ultimate witness to aging gracefully.

At the end of the visit, I take his hand in mine and say a prayer thanking God for sending this mensch into my life. And I am not leaving his presence without getting his blessing. So I bend down, and Morris places his hand on my head and says a silent blessing.

As I raise my head, my eyes are brimming with tears of gratitude and joy, and I see a set of twinkling eyes “speaking” the universal language of pure love.

As I leave his room, Morris says: “May you live to see 100 years like me.”