Chapter 27 epilogue

I sometimes think back to who I was before I got my old professor back.I have something to say to that person.I'm going to tell him what's important and be careful not to repeat the same mistakes.I told him to be open-minded, not to be seduced by flailing values, and to listen to your loved ones when they speak as if it were the last time you would hear them speak. But most of all, I'm going to get that guy on a plane to visit a nice old man in West Newton, Massachusetts, and without delay, before the old man gets sick and can't dance anymore. I know this is impossible.No one can undo the past or start over in life.But if I follow Murray.What Professor Schwartz has learned is this: It's never too late in life.Life is fluid until the last moment.

Shortly after Murray's death I got in touch with my brother in Spain and had a long conversation.I told him that I respected his idea of ​​keeping a distance, all I wanted was to keep in touch with him now, not just in the past, and try to be with him as far as he allowed. You are my only brother, I said: I don't want to lose you, I love you very much. I've never said anything like that to him before. A few days later, I received a fax that was typewritten in a haphazard, poorly punctuated manner, my brother's usual style. Hi!I upgraded to the nineties!This is the beginning of the fax.He told a few little stories about what he had been up to this week, and a few jokes.In the end he wrote:

I now have heart palpitations and diarrhea life is cheap.Let's talk again in a few days? (sign) I laughed until my eyes were teary. The book was mostly Murray's idea, and he said it was our final paper.A good cooperation plan can bring colleagues closer, and this is the case for this book, and Murray was very happy when several publishers expressed interest in it, although he could not negotiate with any publisher during his lifetime.We are very pleased that the advance payment for the book has solved part of Murray's considerable medical burden. After Murray's death, I dug through boxes of college stuff and found my last report in his class, twenty years ago.I wrote a few words to Murray in pencil on the cover of the report, and Murray also wrote a reply in pen below.

Here's what I write: Dear Coach He replied: Dear player Somehow, every time I see this, I miss him even more. Have you ever met a really good teacher?He sees you as a rough jade, a rough diamond, which can shine brightly as long as it is honed with wisdom.If you are lucky enough to have such a teacher, you will return to him one day.Sometimes you just think in your head.Sometimes you'll be by your side. The last class my teacher taught in his life was held once a week in the study of his home. A small hibiscus plant could be seen from the window, and pink flowers fell to the ground one after another.Classes are held every Tuesday, without textbooks, and the subject is called the meaning of life.The teacher uses his life experience to teach.

The class continues. (End of the book)