The bright hour : a memoir of living and dying / Nina Riggs.
"An exquisite memoir about how to live--and love--every day with 'death in the room,' from poet Nina Riggs, mother of two young sons and the direct descendant of Ralph Waldo Emerson, in the tradition of When Breath Becomes Air. 'We are breathless, but we love the days. They are promises. They are the only way to walk from one night to the other.' Nina Riggs was just thirty-seven years old when initially diagnosed with breast cancer--one small spot. Within a year, the mother of two sons, ages seven and nine, and married sixteen years to her best friend, received the devastating news that her cancer was terminal. How does one live each day, 'unattached to outcome'? How does one approach the moments, big and small, with both love and honesty? Exploring motherhood, marriage, friendship, and memory, even as she wrestles with the legacy of her great-great-great grandfather, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nina Riggs's breathtaking memoir continues the urgent conversation that Paul Kalanithi began in his gorgeous When Breath Becomes Air. She asks, what makes a meaningful life when one has limited time? Brilliantly written, disarmingly funny, and deeply moving, The Bright Hour is about how to love all the days, even the bad ones, and it's about the way literature, especially Emerson, and Nina's other muse, Montaigne, can be a balm and a form of prayer. It's a book about looking death squarely in the face and saying 'this is what will be.' Especially poignant in these uncertain times, The Bright Hour urges us to live well and not lose sight of what makes us human: love, art, music, words"-- Provided by publisher.
Record details
- ISBN: 9781501169359
- ISBN: 1501169351
- Physical Description: 310 pages ; 24 cm
- Publisher: New York : Simon & Schuster, 2017.
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Available copies
- 13 of 13 copies available at Missouri Evergreen.
- 0 of 0 copies available at Trails Regional.
- 0 of 0 copies available at Trails Regional-Technical Services.
Holds
- 1 current hold with 13 total copies.
Other Formats and Editions
Show Only Available Copies
Location | Call Number / Copy Notes | Barcode | Shelving Location | Status | Due Date |
---|---|---|---|---|---|
Barry Lawrence - Cassville Library | 362.19699 RIG (Text) | 37884102839416 | Adult Non-Fiction | Available | - |
Camden County Library District - Osage Beach | Biography RIGGS (Text) | 31320003594475 | Adult Biography | Available | - |
Cape Girardeau Public Library | RIG (Text) | 33042004469592 | Adult Biography | Available | - |
Caruthersville Public Library | 362.19 RIG (Text) | 38417100245648 | Non-Fiction | Available | - |
De Soto Public Library | 362.19 RIGGS Nina (Text) | 33858000103533 | Adult Non-Fiction | Available | - |
Douglas County Public Library | B RIGGS (Text) | 35633000031569 | Adult Biography | Available | - |
Festus Public Library | 362.196 Riggs (Text) | 32017000077785 | Adult Non-Fiction | Available | - |
Jefferson County Library-Arnold | B RIGGS (Text) | 30061010143382 | Biography | Available | - |
Marion County Library | 362.1969 RIG (Text) | PPL67288 | Non-Fiction | Available | - |
Marshall Public Library | 92 RIG (Text) | 33391000401457 | Biography | Available | - |
The Bright Hour : A Memoir of Living and Dying
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Excerpt
The Bright Hour : A Memoir of Living and Dying
The Bright Hour 1. One Small Spot The call comes when John is away at a conference in New Orleans. Let's not linger on the thin light sifting into our bedroom as I fold laundry, the last leaves shivering on the willow oak outside--preparing to let go but not yet letting go. The heat chattering in the vent. The dog working a spot on her leg. The new year hanging in the air like a question mark. The phone buzzing on the bed. It's almost noon. Out at the school, the kids must be lining up for recess, their fingers tunneling into their gloves like explorers. Cancer in the breast, the doctor from the biopsy says. One small spot. One small spot. I repeat it to John, who steps out of a breakout session when he sees my text. I repeat it to my mom, who says, "You've got to be kidding me. Not you, already." I repeat it to my dad who shows up at my house with chicken soup. I repeat it to my best friend, Tita, and she repeats it to me as we sit on the couch obsessing over all twenty words of the phone conversation with the doctor. I repeat it brushing my teeth, in the carpool line, unclasping my bra, falling asleep, walking the aisles of the grocery store, walking on the greenway, lying in the cramped, clanky cave of the MRI machine while they take a closer look. One small spot. It becomes a chant, a rallying cry. One small spot is fixable. One small spot is a year of your life. No one dies from one small spot. "Oh, breast cancer," I remember my great-aunt saying before she died at age ninety-three of heart failure. "That's something I did in the 1970s." Excerpted from The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying by Nina Riggs All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.