plumb - taken

i'll still be loving you
through the sadness and the madness here
and i'll always be with you
in the distance
that has taken you
from me

I was looking for a couple of good, interesting reads a couple of weeks ago at Oxford Bookstore. I grabbed "Outliers" by Malcolm Gladwell -- I was a fan of both "The Tipping Point" and "Blink," finding both quick, but thought-provoking reads. I looked for something a little meatier, and then I saw it --

I had heard about "The Last Lecture." I think I had done a search on Google for something on human-computer interaction, as one of my oldest friends is now studying it at University of California, Irvine.

Prof. Randy Pausch was a professor at Carnegie Mellon University. The university had come up with a "last lecture" series, where each week featured a different professor sharing the wisdom he would impart if it was, in fact, his last lecture in life, as if he or she was dying.

Prof. Pausch was assigned to give one such lecture. As irony would have it, he discovered that he in fact was dying around the same time from pancreatic cancer.

You can find his last lecture on YouTube; when I get the emotional strength one day, I'll watch it.

But back to that day at Oxford Bookstore. The book, "The Last Lecture," was a written and expanded version of Prof. Pausch's famous last lecture.

I grabbed it, and put it back. I grabbed it again, and put it back. I walked around the store two more times, inspected various books, and as I was at the checkout counter, I grabbed it again.

And the book has sat on my shelf for about a month now. One night, I finally had the courage (and also the desperation -- I really needed to read something!) to open it.

What was I thinking? I was bawling by the third page.

My own mother died after two bouts with breast cancer. I've witnessed what radiation and chemo can do to a person -- I've been the family member who has had to watch from the outside.

But what I appreciated so much about Prof. Pausch's book is that he gave me a glimpse into what it was like on the inside, what my mom must have been feeling and thinking in her last days.

Prof. Pausch explains in the opening chapters that he chose to give the lecture and to write this book because he wanted his three kids, who were all quite young at the time, to know without a doubt for the rest of their lives how much their father loved them.

After she found out she was dying, my mother came into my room every night when I was back in Los Angeles to give me a "good night hug." I was 19 and annoyed as hell at the little routine, but I get it now, I get it so much now. I know without a doubt just how much she loved me and the extent to which she went to make sure I'd know it for the rest of my life.

Prof. Pausch talks about how he spent his life realizing his childhood dreams, and later, how he helped others do so, too. Wow. What an inspiration there. I've spent so much time lately trying to figure out what I want to do next... and then I think back to the things I wanted as a kid, what were my dreams? I know what they are. And maybe if I just go back to working towards those things I've always wanted for my entire life -- well, that's the direction I've been looking for.

He writes about being a total arrogant jerk who would be right but would put down everyone else so no one would really care. I've always admired people who could admit their faults, and he does so, through and through.

Each of his stories are just a few page vignettes, which is great, because i can't handle to read more than one or two at a time without running for a Kleenex box.

That's okay, though. I know that this is a book i'll carry with me for some time.

Prof. Pausch died on July 25, 2008. But what a wonderful gift he has left for his kids and so many others who want to carry their parents and their wisdom with them after they're gone. Thank you, mom, and thank you, Randy.