Uncontainable Light: A mother’s love letter from her daughter’s funeral

Oh, beeba.

Brooklyn, Brook, Brookie, Beebs. Beeba-leebs, Beiber, Leeber, Beezel. Sweet B. B. One name couldn’t contain you, but that’s your story, your light was not meant to be contained.

I can’t believe you’re gone.
I can’t believe I am standing here so soon.

Again.

Actually, I can.
You always did things your way and on your time. Continue reading “Uncontainable Light: A mother’s love letter from her daughter’s funeral”

hospital love.

 

I am weird, {for more than this reason, I know} but I really like hospitals.  I like being the patient and the mother.  I feel safe. When I am the patient, I have trained people caring for me and I don’t burden my loved ones.  I am also more forgiving and patient with strangers, and a sucker for pain meds.

Continue reading “hospital love.”