I have recommended Nina Rigg’s gorgeous memoir The Bright Hour: A Memoir of Living and Dying more times than I can count, in person, in blog posts, in articles – and most certainly will again – and, this week, I have been listening to it again on audio as the world has felt crashing around us recently.

In the past few weeks, as I’ve been quite ill myself at times, a young member of my second family passed away heartbreakingly and a family we have been close to over the years has experienced a shocking loss.

Now, one of our most precious family members is suddenly seriously ill and there is nothing we can do but wait and pray. 

We are afraid, we are devastated, we are at a loss.

In this space, I’ve been revisiting The Bright Hour, Nina’s wonderful reflection on mortality and illness, through her own experience with cancer as well as the writings of her great–great-great grandfather Ralph Waldo Emerson and also the essays of Michel de Montaigne.

As my body responds involuntarily to deeply painful things, I am having a sick day in bed today, feverish and exhausted, and I am leaning into some thoughts from Nina (and RWE and Montaigne) that are giving me solace.

First, the oft quoted thought from Montaigne “that what cannot be cured must be endured,” while seemingly obvious, is helpful to remember. Unfortunately, we must face our reality and learn to cope.

Second, throughout her memoir, Nina shares the story of Montaigne’s life, the many losses he faced, from his brother’s sudden death in an accident at 23 to losing his closest companion to plague when he was 30. As he considered living in a world where illness and death felt around every corner, he said, “It is a continual source of torment that cannot be assuaged at all. There is no place from which it may not come; we may keep turning our heads ceaselessly this way and that, as if in suspicious country.” 

“Suspicious country” was what came to my mind earlier this week and drew me back to The Bright Hour as it is certainly a familiar place now – and it is comforting to read the thoughts of another who understands its topography well.

Finally, Nina’s thought:

The things I’m loving these days: things where everything is not okay, and that’s okay – or not. Montaigne incredulous: “Did you think you would never reach the point toward which you were constantly heading?”

As we are sitting in this deeply distressing time, we hold on, wait, and pray.

I don’t have any answers (clearly), just wonderings, questions, and anxieties right now.

Please send prayers, good vibes, and warm thoughts for our family. They are greatly appreciated.

Be well, everybody. Take care of yourselves and each other.

Grace and Blessings.