Lily

“I am reminded of an image...that living with a terminal disease is like walking on a tightrope over an insanely scary abyss. But that living without disease is also like walking on a tightrope over an insanely scary abyss, only with some fog or cloud cover obscuring the depths a bit more -- sometimes the wind blowing it off a little, sometimes a nice dense cover.”
― Nina Riggs, The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying

“Also there was this—something we came to understand together much later: her desperately needing to still be my mom, my desperately needing to prove to her how much I didn’t need a mom.”
― Nina Riggs, The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying

“A retired rabbi—the friend of a friend—writes me an email out of the blue about how he lost his mother when he was nine years old. In the message, he lists all the things he remembers about his mom and all the ways she remains in his life: her favorite flower, the books she read him, her sense of humor. “She is far from a hole in my life. She is an enormous presence that can never be replaced.” His words are a gift that I pull out some nights and let swirl through the room, brush over my skin like a tincture.”
― Nina Riggs, The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying

“That was grief, I say to myself. It makes us dark and a little crazy.”
― Nina Riggs, The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying