Tuesday with Morrie

Morrie closed his eyes, "I know, Mitch. You mustn't be afraid of my dying. I've had a good life, and we all know it's going to happen. I maybe have four or five months."

Come on, I said nervously. Nobody can say-
"I can, " he said softly. "There's even a little test. A doctor showed me."

A test?

"Inhale a few times."

I did as he said.

"Now, once more, but this time, when you exhale, count as many numbers as you can before you take another breath."

I quickly exhaled the numbers. "One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight..." I reached seventy before my breath was gone.

"Good," Morrie said. "You have healthy lungs. Now. Watch what i do."

He inhaled, then began his number count in a soft, wobbly voice. "One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen-fourteen-fifteen-sixteen-seventeen-eighteen--"

He stopped, gashing for air.

"When the doctor first asked me to do this, I could reach twenty-three. Now its eighteen."

He closed his eyes, shook his head. "My tank is almost empty."

(extract from Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom)

What is life all about?
What is it like to know you are going to die?
How will you face your death?
What are the things you will do before your time runs out?