Chapter 8 1st Tuesday we talk about the world

Connie opened the door and let me in.Murray was at the dining table in a wheelchair, wearing a loose cotton shirt and even looser sweatpants.The trousers were baggy because his legs had shrunk out of shape, and his thighs were no bigger than his palms.If he can still stand, he will only be about 150 centimeters tall, and the jeans of a sixth-grade elementary school student can probably be worn. I said to him: I'll bring you something to eat.As he spoke, he raised the brown paper bag in his hand.On my way from the airport, I stopped by a nearby supermarket and bought some turkey, potato salad, macaroni salad and bagels.I know he has food at home, but I wanted to contribute a bit, I remember he likes to eat.There is really not much else I can do for Murray.

Ah, so much to eat!He sang: "Fine, now you have to eat with me." There were several rattan chairs around the dining table, and I pulled one up to sit on.This time we don't have to spend time talking about all the experiences of the past sixteen years, so we will soon talk about everything as we did in college.Murray asked questions, listened to my answers, and occasionally, like a chef, added things I had forgotten or hadn't thought of.He asked about the newspaper's strike, but he was still a scholar, so he couldn't figure out why the labor and management couldn't communicate well to solve the problem.I told him that not everyone is like him, one-click.

A few times he has to stop to go to the toilet, which will take him some time.Connie pushed his wheelchair to the bathroom, helped him out of the wheelchair, wiped him with one hand, and carried the urinal for him with the other.Every time he came back, he looked tired. He said: Do you remember me and Ted.Caber said, soon I'll have to rely on someone else to wipe my ass? I laughed.Those moments are hard to forget. Well, I think that day is coming.This day makes me restless. why? Because that's the ultimate sign of being dependent on someone else, asking for your ass to be wiped.But I'm trying, and I'm trying to enjoy the process.

enjoy? right.In the end, I became a little baby again. This view is quite unique. For my part, I now have to look at life from a unique perspective.You see, I can't shop, manage my bank account, or take out the trash.But I can sit here and count the few days and think about what I think is important in life.I have the time and the reasons to do so. I said, so to find the meaning of life, is to stop taking out the trash?The words I blurted out were a bit sarcastic.He laughed, and I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Connie was clearing away the dishes when I noticed a stack of newspapers that had apparently been turned over before I arrived.

I asked, do you still spend time watching the news? Yes, said Murray: Does that seem strange to you?You think I'm dying so I shouldn't pay attention to world affairs? Maybe. He sighed.perhaps you're right.Maybe I don't need to care.Anyway, I can't see the future development of things. But it's hard to tell, Mitch.Now that I am suffering, I feel more empathy for those who suffer than I did before.One night I saw on TV that people in Bosnia were running in the streets, guns were booming, and innocent people were being sacrificed, and I cried.I empathize with their suffering.I have never met them before, but what should I say?I almost have a heart for them.

His eyes started to glisten with tears, and I tried to change the subject, but he wiped his eyes and waved his hand at me. I cry all the time now, and he said: Leave me alone. Incredible, I thought to myself.I work in journalism, I've covered deaths, I've interviewed grieving families, I've even attended funerals for the dead, and I've never shed a tear.Murray was crying seeing people suffering half a world away.I thought: Is this the end of life?Maybe death makes all people equal, and people who have lived a lifetime will cry for each other's fate. Murray sniffled loudly.Do you think it's okay?See the big man crying?

I said hastily, which of course was a little too hasty. He grinned.Ah, Mitch, I'm going to make you more open.One day I want to let you know that it's okay to cry. Yeah, yeah, I said. Yes, yes, he said. We laughed because he said the same thing nearly twenty years ago.Mostly on Tuesdays.In fact, we usually meet on Tuesdays.I take Murray's classes mostly on Tuesdays, and on Tuesdays he sees students in his office, and when I write my senior thesis (which Murray suggested from the beginning), we also meet on Tuesdays, or at his desk , or in the cafeteria, or on the steps of Perlman Hall, to discuss paper matters.

So it was only fitting that we reunited on Tuesday, at his home with Japanese maples on the doorstep.I told Murray about it before I was about to leave. He said: "We are Tuesday mates. Tuesday partner, I followed up. Murray smiled. Mitch, you just asked me why I care about people I don't know.Shall I tell you what I learned the most from this illness? what is it The most important thing in life is to learn to give love and to receive love. His voice became a whisper.to receive love.We think we are not worthy of love, we think that if we accept love, we will become weak.But a wise man named Levine was right when he said: Love is the only sane act.

He paused, and then carefully emphasized again: love is the only sane behavior. I nodded, like a good student.He exhaled slightly.I leaned over and gave him a hug, and then, though I never would, I kissed him on the cheek.I feel his frail hand on my arm, the fine hairs of his mustache brushing my face. He whispered: So you'll be back next Tuesday? ◇◇◇ He walked into the classroom, sat down, and said nothing.He looks at us and we look at him.At first there were giggles, but Murray just shrugged, and finally everyone fell silent, and even the slightest sound could be heard, like the muffled operation of a heater in the corner of the classroom, or the nasal sound of a fat student's breathing.

Some people began to lose their temper, thinking: When will he speak?We are restless and look at our watches from time to time.A few students looked out the window, trying to wander off.After going on like this for a full fifteen minutes, Mo Rui finally broke the silence gently. He asked: What do you think? We gradually joined the discussion, which was Murray's purpose in the first place.We're talking about what silence does to relationships.Why are we embarrassed by silence?Why do loud voices make people feel more at ease? I don't feel uncomfortable with silence.Although I was noisy with my friends, I was still not used to talking about my feelings in front of others, especially in front of my classmates.I can sit quietly for hours if need be, just listening to lectures.

I was going out of the classroom after class, but Murray stopped me and said: You don't talk much today. I don't know, I just have nothing special to say. I think you have a lot to say.Mitch, you actually remind me of someone I knew who also liked to keep things in his head when he was younger. who? I.