I haven't kept in touch with anybody from college.

Reunions, the mail.

Who's got time for that stuff?

Well, I wish I had a teacher like that.

He was more than just a teacher.

He was, what, like a force.

At this basketball game once, we're all chanting, we're number one, we're number one, right?

So I see Morrie a couple rows down, his eye on us.

He's giving us all this look.

All of a sudden he stands up and says, what's wrong with being number two?

He actually wanted to discuss that right in the middle of the game.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Made a really big difference in my life and never even thanked him.

You talk about him as if he were already dead.

You could still go see him.

He's in Boston.

When am I going to find time to go to Boston?

Well, make time, if he meant that much to you.

You know, you're on the road half your life.

Why can't you make time for one trip to Boston?

Why are you getting upset?

Why are you making excuses?

Why do you have such a problem making time in your game?

Hey, you're that guy Mitch Albom, right?

Yeah, hey.

Hey, man, I read your column every day.

Thanks.

I got an idea for a column.

Guys, I'm in the middle here.

Gotcha.

Hey, we'll talk later.

I get ideas all the time.

Great.

Sorry.

Anyway, the truth is, it's just, it's too late.

All these years I haven't sent the guy a postcard.

I'm just going to, how am I going to face him now?

Mitch, think, hey, think of him.

Think about how much it would mean to him.

At least call him.

In hockey last night, when the playoff berth at stake and visions of that golden cup...

I lived on the phone, made dozens of calls a day.

Why couldn't I make one to a dying man?

The simple answer was guilt, but it was more than that.

I was afraid of seeing him now.

I had a thing about death.

Here's my buddy.

Hey, hey.

You're one of the special ones, Mitch.

You're going to keep in touch.

You've got to promise me.

I promise.

I failed that promise.

I also had a thing about failure.

Hey, it's me.

Well, you were right.

I can't work.

I can't even think here.

I've got to do something.

About Maury, I mean.

Are you going to go see him?

Yeah, it's one trip to Boston.

A quick little visit.

Say I'm sorry and say good-bye.

Roll back to take.

Let me hear the playback again.

Okay.

No, no, no.

I spilled some coffee.

Go ahead.

Let me hear the playback.

You know, I'm listening.

I'm listening.

That sounds fun.

Just go with that.

Yes, is there a lot more?

Sorry.

Forgot my keys.

It's Mitch.

Mitch Albom?

I called.

I spoke to your wife.

I don't get a hug after 16 years?

My old buddy, you came to see me at last.

Let's eat.

Well, I see you still like to eat as much as ever.

Oh, boy.

Dig in, huh?

Help yourself.

Come on.

Make yourself comfortable.

Looks great.

Well, you look great.

Really.

Really.

Same.

Maury, excuse me.

Can you talk?

No.

Get a name if you could, Connie.

I guess I'm with my buddy now, huh?

I spent half the day on the telephone.

Now that I'm dying, people are taking more of an interest in me.

You're a big celebrity now.

How does that feel, being a big TV star?

I mean, you know, you were always interesting.

I thought so.

This one class, do you remember this, Maury?

You didn't say anything?

Do you remember that?

You just stared at us?

We all trooped in with our notebooks ready, waiting for you to start casting pearls and nothing.

Five minutes go by, ten minutes.

We started panicking.

Why isn't the guy saying anything?

Finally, after, like, I think it was 20 minutes of that, when we really can't take it anymore, you say very quietly, What's happening here?

Exactly right.

What's happening here?

That's exactly what you said.

You were making a point about silence.

What is it about silence that makes people uneasy, huh?

Right.

Why do people only feel comfortable when they're filling the air with words?

Shall I tell you what it's like?

Dying.

That's another subject that makes people uncomfortable.

We'll get to it later.

You know, right now, I got to go to the commode.

Are you up to giving me a hand?

Um, sure.

Now, wait a minute.

I better get Connie.

It takes an expert.

Connie.

You know, dying is just one thing to be sad about.

Living unhappily, that's another matter.

We'll see you in a minute.

Okay.

Are you happy in Detroit?

Yeah.

Best town to be in for a sports writer.

Football, basketball, baseball, hockey, you name it.

Are you giving to your community?

They're nuts for sports, you know.

That's what I give them every day in my column.

Are you at peace with yourself?

I can't complain.

Uh-huh.

What happened to the music?

Wasn't that your passion, to be a great pianist?

Yeah.

Yeah, I gave it a shot.

Then I grew up.

You grew up, huh?

Married with kids?

Uh, no.

Haven't found anybody to share your heart with, huh?

No, yes, I have.

Definitely.

Oh.

Not enough to get married?

Uh, no.

Well, yes, I mean, you know, someday.

But, uh, just when we're both ready.

When you're both ready?

Has she got a name?

Janine.

Janine?

That's a very beautiful name.

So Janine shares this when-we're-both-ready thing with you?

No.

Uh-huh.

I can see, Mitch, that we're gonna have a great deal to talk about.

What are you writing?

One more question.

Yeah?

You know anything about this disease that I've got here, this Lou Gehrig's disease?

It melts you like a candle, you know?

In my case, from the bottom up.

That's my legs.

One first.

Hands will be next.

And eventually, it'll get the whole body.

But you know what I dread?

Someday soon, somebody's gonna have to wipe my ass for me.

But I'm a lucky man.

You're lucky?

Yeah.

I've still got time to learn.

Time to say goodbye to the people I love.

And time to teach my final course.

About dying?

Not about dying.

About living.

When you know how to die, you know how to live.