So Here We Are

Morris Wolfe was an essayist, cultural critic, teacher, and editor, as well as a beloved mentor. He chose a medically assisted death on November 27, 2021. The writer Jules Lewis read this letter to him over their last lunch together.

Last night, I dreamt that I attended Morris’s funeral. The funeral, for some reason, was held at a YMCA. I sat in the back row, feeling very uncomfortable. There were fifty or so people seated in front of me in folding chairs; I didn’t know any of them. From the podium, a short old man with a cane blabbed on and on about how great and kind Morris was, about how sorely he would be missed. Nothing about the ceremony felt right. It was too formal. Too dour. And who were all these people in attendance? I wasn’t aware that Morris had this many friends — let alone friends who were still alive. In the back row, I began to feel queasy, bloated; it was as if there was some kind of fleshy...