Bestowing an inheritance can be tricky, especially in turbulent family dynamics. As my friend, Max Raftner discovered, this is particularly true if there are significant riches. Sound values and discernment can help, but they aren’t always present.

Max, previously successful in Cadillac sales, had fallen out of favour with his wealthy father after taking down a power pole with his car. Now 5l, he walked with two canes and relied on medications, which only partially relieved spasms of back pain. No longer effective in sales due to the pain, he began volunteering at a shelter for street people. Sporting an unruly, prematurely greying beard, faded jeans and a plaid shirt he never tucked in, he had, since the accident, been regarded by his father as the family’s black sheep.

Recently the father had died and Max had been summoned by his financially successful brothers, Bill and Irvin, to Ricky’s restaurant to discuss the will. On a cloudy Friday morning, Max eased his battered green Volkswagen Beetle into a handicapped space. The brothers had already ordered coffee and muffins. Max noted the self satisfied expressions of his portly brothers.

He was scarcely seated when Bill said, “Max, it pains me deeply to tell you our father left everything to Irvin and me.” He’d never tried to hide his disdain for Max, and his expression gave no indication of discomfort. He patted his protruding stomach affectionately, then took a $100 bill from a jacket pocket and tossed it on the table in front of Max. “From Irvin and me,” he said magnanimously.

Ignoring the gesture, Max said, “I know the old man had no respect for my work at the homeless shelter. Still, I would have liked something to buy them a van.”

His attention was drawn to the lottery booth near the restaurant entrance where Herbie Smith, the town gossip, was watching to see who would buy a ticket. On a sudden impulse, Max reached for the $100 bill and his canes, then, without explanation he skittered across the floor to the booth.

“I’m feeling lucky today,” he said grinning at Herbie. After investing the entire amount in 649 tickets, he waved at his perplexed brothers and departed.

Several weeks later, when the winning numbers were announced, he invited Bill and Irvin for breakfast at Ricky’s. To the utter astonishment of his brothers, he was wearing new shoes, a sporty jacket and slacks, plus a striped shirt and silk tie.

“Hey Max,” Herbie called out from his usual perch, “where ya get the fancy outfit. You win that lottery?”

“Herbie,” Max said as he bumped determinedly toward his brothers, “don’t tell anyone that, ok?”

Max bought his brothers a hearty breakfast, but when they started asking about his new clothes, he pushed aside his plate. “Just thought of something I have to do, fellas. You carry on. I’ll catch the tab.” The two obese brothers watched in astonishment as Max hobbled hurriedly across the street to the Cadillac dealership. In a few minutes he sped away in a sleek new white Caddy. Overcome by curiosity, Herbie approached the brothers. “Is it true Max won millions in the lottery?” he asked.

The brothers stopped eating as though an electric shock of understanding had passed through them. Pushing aside his plate, Irvin said brusquely, “You’d best skedaddle. We’re busy.” Herbie lingered nearby.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Bill asked, wiping the sudden sweat from his smooth forehead. “Yep, we better do something quick.” Irvin said, already rising.

At that moment Max returned and wheeled the new Cadillac deftly into the dealership. He was crossing the street when the brothers hurried to meet him, breathing heavily.

“Let’s go to the bank, brother,” Irvin said excitedly. They rushed Max to the bank and could hardly wait to transfer a third of their inheritance to his account.

Once outside, Bill grasped Max’s arm. “Now, about the millions you won, Max.”

“What millions?” Max asked. “Is Herbie Smith passing that around?”

“Where did you get the new clothes then?” the brothers asked almost in unison.

“I’m a character witness for a kid in court today. His mom paid for them so I’d look respectable. The Caddy was a test drive for old man Winters.”

“Don’t feel bad about the inheritance fellas,” Max said with his usual grin. “Together we’ll be buying a new van for the shelter.”

I occasionally wonder about the experience of slipping into life’s End Zone. How will I respond when I get “the call?” In Tuesdays with Morrie, journalist and best selling author Mitch Albom provides a riveting account of watching his former, highly respected professor Morrie Schwartz deal with his own impending demise. “Each Tuesday I flew 700 miles to sit beside this dying man. It felt like a rinse of human kindness,” he says. “I liked myself better when I sat beside Morrie.”

Mitch picks up the story 16 years after taking several courses from Morrie at Brandeis University in Massachusetts. When he graduated he promised to stay in contact with Morrie, but ambition and lucrative opportunities intervened. While flipping through the channels one day, he was surprised to come across Morrie being interviewed by famed American television broadcaster Ted Koppel. The much loved professor had been diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease), and was confined to a wheelchair.

Mitch called Morrie’s home and visited him the next Tuesday. The former professor’s mind was still keen to learn and teach. His body though, had endured numerous indignities. He required frequent adjustments of his weak legs and arms. Even his head needed shifting to keep him comfortable. He could no longer dress himself. “In ALS patients,” Mitch observes, “the soul, perfectly awake, is imprisoned in a limp husk.”

The two men quickly resume their former relationship of professor and student. “We’ll write our last thesis,” Morrie says. “The subject will be the meaning of life.” They agree to meet each Tuesday.

When he was diagnosed, Morrie had asked himself if he intended to withdraw from the world, or was he going to live. He decided he was going to live, with dignity, humour, courage and composure. As Morrie discourses, Mitch begins to understand the dying professor is looking at life from a very different place, a healthier place.

Morrie had always gestured with his hands when he talked. Now he can’t lift them higher than his chest. “In the morning I mourn what I’ve lost,” he says. “A little cry, then I focus on the good things, especially the people in my life. It’s wonderful to have so much time to say goodbye to my friends.”

Morrie returns repeatedly to the matter of living a life that has significance. “Most of us walk around like we’re sleep walking,” he says. “We really don’t experience the world fully because we’re doing things we think we have to do. When we’re facing death, we strip away all that stuff and focus on the essentials.”

After several Tuesday visits, Mitch begins to think of Morrie as a man standing on the tracks, listening to death’s locomotive whistle. He knows he will die soon, and is very clear about the important things in life.

Listening to Morrie, Mitch recognizes his own priorities and decisions are making him feel unsettled. He becomes increasingly perplexed by the course his life has taken. Having traded in lots of dreams for a bigger home, more money and a nicer car, his days are full but he is unsatisfied. He yearns for the clarity he sees in Morrie.

Mitch realizes that his professor, now in the last weeks of his life, has attained an understanding of what has true value. Morrie talks about relationships, about loving people, listening carefully to their words, being devoted to community, and especially to creating memories. “All the love we have created,” he says, “and all the memories will still be there after we’re gone. We will still live on in the hearts of those whose lives we have touched and nurtured.”

Tuesdays with Morrie has prompted me to think about my Dad. He had been a skilled heavy equipment operator and an active member of his community. At age 89 his hip broke and he never walked again. During his six years in a long-term care facility, he couldn’t dress himself, turn over in bed, bathe himself and much more. I visited him almost daily and observed how considerate he was toward nurses and care aides. He asked about their family and their interests away from work. He expressed appreciation for their helpfulness to him, and he didn’t complain. Like Morrie, Dad was quick to forgive and refused to dwell on slights.

Tuesdays with Morrie, a great template for life this side of the End Zone.

In his 30^th year, Jesus of Nazareth began propounding religious and social ideas that confounded and antagonized the Jewish religious elites of his time. He arrived on the scene during the reign of Caesar Augustus, and lived into the rule of Tiberius. Without an army or political party, his message brought more significant, lasting change than all the powerful Roman emperors combined. In the 33^rd year of his life, the Jewish religious authorities succeeded in persuading Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, to crucify him. According to accounts by Biblical writers like the former tax collector Matthew, he was resurrected on the third day and spoke with his disciples. It is this death on a cross and miraculous resurrection that will be celebrated by Christians around the globe this Easter.

The Roman empire had been cobbled together by 2 ambitious but uneasy partners, Caesar Augustus and Mark Anthony. Throughout its existence, the empire was held together by a web of intrigue, assassinations, political marriages, betrayals, poisonings, and war. Women were valued primarily for forging alliances. In Rome there were numerous temples to various gods, and men of nobility, including emperors, wished to be identified as near gods. Conquered nations usually suffered under a huge burden of taxation. Disobedience was often dealt with by crucifixion, beheading, poisoning or drowning.

In this septic atmosphere of mistrust and scheming, the Jewish religious leaders had managed to acquire a measure of political power. Their authority was lodged in the Sanhedrin, the Jewish ruling council. The council consisted primarily of 2 parties, the Sadducees, which at this time held the majority of seats, and the Pharisees. The Pharisees believed there would be a resurrection of the dead but the Sadducees did not. On other points of lesser importance they did agree and had developed an all encompassing system of religious rules which the people found virtually impossible to follow. The religious rulers could bar people from the temple if they didn’t comply. Since Jewish culture centered on religious traditions and especially on the temple, there was fear of being shut out.

It was not an auspicious time for the appearance of a man who claimed to be the Son of God. The Sadducees and Pharisees quickly became suspicious because he contradicted much of their teaching. They held to the “eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth” philosophy. “Love your neighbour,” they said, “and hate your enemy.” Jesus urged the people to “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you.” The chief priests and teachers of the law deemed his teaching to be heretical and sent spies to question him and report to them.

Jesus warned against the corruptness and false piety of the religious leaders. “They like to walk around in flowing robes,” he said, “and be greeted in the market places and have the most important seats in the synagogues. For a show they make lengthy prayers.”

Equally galling were the miracles. When he healed a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath, they accused him of breaking the law and began plotting to kill him.

Evidently the people were desperate for greater substance than the rules and platitudes offered by the pious, corrupt religious leaders. Crowds gathered around him, sensing his authenticity

and liking his positive message of forgiveness and hope. This fervent adulation aroused fear and jealousy in the Sadducees and Pharisees. When he brought Lazarus back from the dead, a member of the Sanhedrin said, “if we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away our place and our nation.”

Late one night, Judas Iscariot, one of the 12 disciples betrayed Jesus with a kiss in the Garden of Gethsemane. At dawn the religious leaders brought him before Pontius Pilate, demanding he be crucified. Jesus had warned his disciples this would happen.

Reluctantly, Pilate sentenced him and he was crucified between 2 criminals. One joined the scoffing. The other said, “Lord remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus replied, “today you will be with me in paradise.”

Several writers in the Biblical New Testament report that Jesus died on the cross, was placed in a tomb, and was resurrected 3 days later. This Easter, Christians around the globe will again greet each other with “He is risen!”

Two years ago on my birthday, our neighbours Tap and Di gave me a hand crafted plaque with the inscription, “AN OLD BEAR LIVES HERE …WITH HIS HONEY.” Tap is a gifted artisan and I greatly value the gesture. To this day the plaque reminds me of the time when our children Jeremy and Vivian were age 5 and 7. At bedtime, Linda read for them a chapter from A.A. Milne’s “Winnie the Pooh.” Invariably there were bursts of delighted laughter and many exclamations of surprise. The children are adults now and have families of their own. For Linda and me the memories linger, with more than a touch of nostalgia. Now another birthday is looming on the horizon, and last week Linda and I again read the story.

At the outset of the narrative, we are introduced to the Hundred Aker Wood, an environment uncluttered by television, computers, the internet or hectic social lives. Pooh, his special friend Christopher Robin, Piglet, Rabbit, Owl, Kanga and Roo, are blithely unaware of the larger world beyond the wood.

We find Pooh, frequently referred to by his friends as “a bear of little brain,” sitting at the foot of a tree with his head between his paws, trying to think. “That buzzing noise must mean something,” he says, “The only reason I know for making a noise like that is because you’re a bee. The only reason I know of for being a bee is making honey. And the only reason for making honey is so I can eat it.” Pooh’s thought processes are pretty basic, often centred on obtaining honey. In this case he borrows a balloon from Christopher Robin and it lifts him to the top of a tree where the bees are. One stings him and he decides these are the wrong kind of bees, and they probably make the wrong kind of honey. Having not thought about how he and the balloon would descend, he remains suspended near the top of the tree. Finally he asks Christopher Robin to shoot a hole in the balloon with his gun. Christopher Robin does this and Pooh floats slowly to the ground.

Although Pooh is a bear with little brain, at times he is very practical, even insightful. When he visits Eeyore, the donkey who lives in a corner of the wood where there is an abundance of thistles, he notices his friend is gloomier than usual. Hoping to discern why Eeyore is so sad he says, “Let’s have a look at you.” He walks around him, then says, “Why, what’s happened to your tail? It isn’t there!” Eeyore had not been aware of this and thought Pooh must be mistaken. Pooh tells him, “Either a tail is there or it isn’t there. You can’t miss it. You can’t make a mistake about it, and yours isn’t there.”

Eeyore, a chronic pessimist says, “Somebody must have taken it. How Like Them.” Wanting to help his friend, Pooh sets out for Owl’s place. “If anyone knows anything about anything,” he says to himself, “it’s Owl.” Fortunately he does find the tail and when Christopher Robin has nailed it on in its right place again, Eeyore frisks about the forest.

Pooh’s love for “a little something” at times creates a dilemma from which only Christopher Robin can deliver him. This happens when he squeezes through the narrow burrow into Rabbit’s home. Here he accepts Rabbit’s offer of honey and milk. He indulges enthusiastically and when he attempts to exit through the narrow opening of the burrow, he gets stuck and cannot move forward. “Oh bother,” he says. “I shall have to go back,” but he can’t move.

Rabbit fetches Christopher Robin who says, “Silly old Bear” in such a loving voice that everybody feels quite hopeful again. He declares, “There’s only one thing to be done. We shall have to wait for you to get thin again. That will take about a week, I should think. I’m afraid no meals, because of getting thin quicker, but we will read to you.” So, for a week Pooh grows thinner and then Christopher Robin says “Now.” He and Rabbit pull and all of rabbit’s friends and relations pull. Suddenly Pooh says, “Pop!” and he’s ejected like a cork out of a bottle. That’s Winnie the Pooh, more able to relieve pandemic anxiety than a session with a psychiatrist.