Reminded me, in a great way, of When Breath Becomes Air. Beautifully written. She did a great job of evoking empathy without pity.

It seems like the "death memoir" is having a moment in literature now. There are many wonderful books out to help us understand the most singular event that waits for us all, despite our endless attempts to avoid it. It would be a mistake to skip this over, thinking that you have already read this type of thing. This is different. Yes, it's poignant. But it's also so well written that it's able to show optimism in every setback, a joyfulness in the moments granted, and the lyricism of the everyday existence. It will make you cry, but you will be better for it.

"We are breathless, but we love the days. They are promises. They are the only way to walk from one night to the other."

I struggled writing this review. Not because I didn't like this book but because I loved it and that is a weird thing to say about a memoir where the writer is dying of cancer. I think I can say I loved it out of respect and admiration for Nina. I am astounded at her strength and ability to write a book she knew she would never live to see published.

Nina Riggs was just 37 when she was diagnosed with cancer. It was just one small spot that within a year became terminal even after aggressive treatment and years of fighting. She was the mother of two young sons ages seven and nine and was married to John, her best friend. While Nina's situation was tough, John was right when he said "I'm so afraid I can't breathe." I couldn't imagine watching the love of life dying, then die, then have to go one with life and raise your children without them. It's heartbreaking to think about. One of my favorite things I experienced reading this book actually came after I had finished. When I was reading other peoples reviews about The Bright Hour on GoodReads, I saw that her husband John had written a 5 star review for his late wife's novel and what he wrote was so sweet. I thought I had finished crying, but clearly I hadn't.

Nina said many amazing and heartbreaking things about her kids and how she felt knowing she was leaving them. One thing in particular touched me very deeply. She said "When you fall in love with your kids, you fall in love forever." Like I have mentioned many times, I have two young boys myself and many times I put myself in her shoes and just about choked on the terror and sadness that arose in me.

Nina's honesty and journalistic attention to details made me feel as though I was living her life and feeling her pain, sadness and strength as I read. She wrote down the questions we would all have in her situation like "How does one live each day, unattached to the outcome? How does one approach the moments big and small, with both love and honesty?" and "What makes a life meaningful when one has limited time?"

Nina found humor in her situation and made me laugh even as I was crying. One thing she said that made me laugh out loud was "There are so many things that are worse than death: old grudges, a lack of self-awareness, severe constipation, no sense of humor, the grimace on your husband's face as he empties your surgical drain into the measuring cup" Ha!

As if Nina's situation wasn't dire enough, her mother was also dying of cancer when Nina is diagnosed with her own. One of the most hard hitting moments she writes about is when her mom is being cremated. Her father chooses a ridiculous Tupperware pitcher that they had made lemonade in since she was a child as her urn. She tells her father that won't work and he he runs back inside to find something else to use. Nina sends a photo of the pitcher to her mom's phone number and says "Please come back. Dad wants to put you in this." In that moment she realizes that this is the first of a million non replies she will receive.

Nina was an incredible woman who was beloved and I pray that she has found peace. This was a heartbreaking memoir that I couldn't tear my eyes away from even as they filled and spilled over with tears. I urge you to read it because I truly believe it is something that will touch your heart and make you live each day more fully.

PS: I think this would be a wonderful pick for a book club. Not only is there a ton to discuss, Nina and her mom were both part of a book club that was very special to them.

A direct descendant of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nina Riggs inherited a love of the written word and graduated with an MFA in poetry. She went on to have a book of poetry titled Lucky, Lucky published in 2009. In 2015 she was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 37. She decided to document her experiences on her blog Suspicious Country where she shared what it was like to be a married, young mother of two with this disease.

Readers are fortunate that Nina was able to write her story, The Bright Hour – A Memoir of Living and Dying before her death in 2017. This book is a bittersweet one that left me with gratitude for her ability to transform the ordinary bits of day-to-day life into opportunities for deep reflection.

Her writing is honest and exquisite. She bares all and explores all of her emotions – from dark humor to joy, hopelessness, horror, magic, and beauty. It’s all part of the landscape. She sees the good and bad in all of this and says, “I never stop being amazed by how simultaneously cruel and beautiful this world can be.”

Nina’s writing is evocative. She describes people, moments, relationships, and landscapes much in the way that Emerson does. The relationship she has with her mother – the ups and downs, and the details of her decline and subsequent death in some ways set the stage for much of what Nina covers in this book. It’s a memoir of her experience as a daughter who accompanies her mother into death, and then not long after- faces her own. Nina’s love for her children, husband, father, and friends shine throughout these pages. Her appreciation for nature is also featured prominently, and she sees herself reflected in all of it. She punctuates her story with many details from history and a variety of facts – all of which help to serve as anchors for her experience.

She cleverly names the chapters of this book based on stages, and this serves as a way to see both the progression of the disease as well as the decline and realizations that come from the passage of time. The book begins with her speaking to her mother having terminal cancer and then months later; she is in treatment for incurable metastatic cancer. The Bright Hour is an attempt to describe the indescribable. She offers her insight into the landscape of the medical industry and the language of cancer via her experience. Nina writes with the knowledge that she’s dying and she’s so honest about it all.

The Bright Hour is a philosophical examination of illness and of life and death. It’s a gift that she’s left for readers – a vehicle for us to see what it’s like to travel on uncharted waters into the face of one’s mortality. It tells the story of family and how we fumble through our relationships, make mistakes and do the awkward dance of being honest and hiding for fear of hurting our loved ones. It speaks to what it means to live and die with authenticity and helps to advance the death positivity movement. To read Nina’s words is to be fearless and brave and glance into a life that is coming to an end and the powerlessness that can be felt from this reality.

One of the most moving memoirs I've ever read. While dealing with her mother's death and being diagnosed terminal cancer, Nina Riggs literally WROTE A BOOK. A really good one. It's beautiful and funny and messy and heart-wrenching and completely unfiltered. Nina Riggs gets really real and I. Love. It. This book is such a gift!

When I pick up a memoir, which arguably isn't often, it's usually always something true crime. Last year I decided to branch out and read When Breath Becomes Air which was a truly remarkable story and challenged me to think about mortality for maybe the first time. So, The Bright Hour is being likened to When Breath Becomes Air which is possibly good and bad. Good because so many people LOVED WBBA (it made my top 10 reads of 2016 list) but bad because no one should for one second think...'Oh I've read one book about death and dying, I don't want or need to read this one....' This book is completely unique and I have to say struck me on a level that WBBA didn't. I'm not sure if it's because Nina was a mom of 2 boys who was dealing with life, marriage, dogs, female friendships, etc and I'm also at a similar point in my life, although my boys are older, but I just immediately connected with her voice and writing. From page one I felt like we were sitting having a glass of wine and she was telling me her story, here's just a sample of her down to earth yet gorgeous writing from page one...

   "Dying isn't the end of the world', my mother liked to joke after she was diagnosed as terminal...I never really understood what she meant, until the day I suddenly did....There are so many things that are worse than death: old grudges, a lack of self-awareness, severe constipation, no sense of humor, the grimace on your husband's face as he empties your surgical drain into the measuring cup..."

Nina not only had her own diagnosis to come to terms with but she also had her mother's. I really, really liked her mom! I laughed about some of their book club discussions and then cried when they questioned whether there's book clubs in heaven...man, I really hope so! For me, this was the ultimate page turner that I never expected to be a page turner because once I started reading I didn't stop until the last page was turned. And then I spent the next hour crying. And going back in my kindle and trying to find passages I may have forgot to highlight. So yes, tissues will be needed but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. I was sad in the end, yes, but I was also changed and inspired. When I pick up a book I do so in the HOPE I will in some way be moved and Nina Riggs achieved this with The Bright Hour, a heartfelt book about family, love, the power of words, living and dying.  This is absolutely going on my 5 star reads bookshelf at home and I can guarantee you it will be one of my top 5 reads of 2017.

A beautifully written memoir I am so very honored to have taken this journey with her.
I laughed, cried and down right ugly cried.
5 stars is not enough for this.

My thanks to NetGalley, the author and publisher for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

This is a stunning memoir. While the subject matter is deeply sad, the book's tone ranges from heartbreaking to witty, from light and chatty to seriously reflective. Riggs (perhaps from her background in poetry) has a gift for distilling a theme or subject matter to its essence. Metaphors that could become bizarre are instead highly effective in her hands. This is the rare and gorgeous memoir that inspires rereading.

Full disclosure: The author's mother and I were first co-workers and then close friends while living in San Francisco in the late 1960s - early 1970s. Over time we drifted apart and then, thanks to Facebook, we reconnected just a couple of years ago. So, I feel a very personal connection to the book and its author. The book is at times funny, painful, insightful, terrifying, and joyful as the author frankly shares with us her fears, hopes, and experiences as she faces both life and death. But it is not maudlin. Rather, it reminds us of our mortality and how important it is to remember that mortality as we experience life.

What a beautifully written, poignant book about living each day and not only experiencing, but celebrating, all it has to offer, good and bad, by an author openly sharing her battle with breast cancer.

Nina Riggs was 37 years old, with a loving husband and two young sons when she was diagnosed with an especially deadly form of breast cancer. She lets the reader "in" as if we were beloved friends or family. It is hard not to feel as if you actually know her. Nina actually had me laughing out loud in several places which made me feel guilty, but actually is a testament to her courage and love of life.

Here's a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of her ancestors, which she used it the book: "I am cheered with the moist, warm, glittering, budding and melodious hour that takes down the narrow walls of my soul and extends its pulsation and life to the very horizon, that is morning; to cease for a bright hour to be a prisoner of this sickly body, and to become as large as the World."

What a fine memoir she has left for her family, and for the world, of a woman who loved life, took all it had to offer, and never gave up. I wish I really had known her - she's a woman I admire!

Many many thanks to Netgalley and Simon & Schuster publishers for allowing me to read an e-ARC of this wonderful book!

A beautifully written memoir by Nina Riggs of her journey with metastatic breast cancer. She was a mother of two young boys and a wife to a very loving and supportive husband. She tells of her journey with humor and dignity. A sad but very moving tribute to the very strong woman that she was.

Wow! A powerful, inspiring, true story about a young woman with terminal cancer and how she and her family handle the diagnosis, the treatments and all the changes that come with this disease.
As a healthcare professional, I feel it is a must read for nurses, physicians and anyone in this field. People will gain an insight to feelings that go with the news from the beginning and forward as did this family.

Nina was thirty-seven when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, and it sucked. A lot. Her sons were six and eight. That's how I met her: our older sons got to be friends when they were in the same class at school. She was a totally awesome person- instantly easy to talk to, with great stories and quippy comebacks. It's not a surprise that reading her words feels an awful lot like talking to her. What is a surprise, though, is what amazing things she can do with words. After her diagnosis, as a writer, she began processing the information in a way that she knew... by writing. Her blog entries were beautiful, morbid, funny, and heartrending, all at the same time. I just can't wrap my brain around the fact that Nina had access to the exact same vocabulary I have, but that she was able to do so much more with it that I could ever do.

In one scene in her book, she's talking to her son Freddy after his hospital stay (diabetes diagnosis) and he says he sometimes misses the hospital so much he could cry. She writes, "'The hospital. The beeping machines. The sallow 3 a.m. light of the hallway. The narrow vinyl couch and paper sheet... that hospital?'
'I loved playing those video games the whole time,' he said. 'And remember how you wold climb in the bed and cuddle me at night and we would just talk?'
Oh. That hospital."

Two completely different places in one place. I remember reading the blog entry where she wrote about that exchange, creating two completely different moods and feelings about the same place, and just being amazed. And this whole book is full of similarly rich, beautiful writing. I truly am finding myself wanting to just quote passages in this review.

Reading this book feels a lot different than reading other memoirs about disease and dying. This doesn't feel like Nina is on a stage, pontificating from behind a podium about what she's learned from her experience. She also doesn't write like she's already died and wants to send back postcards of light. She writes like she's going through it. And it's scary. And really hard. And sometimes it's funny. And sometimes it's not. But you're right there with her, sitting on the back deck with a cold beer, just listening to her stories about her experiences.

Dying is something that happens to everyone. But I couldn't think of a book that treated it that way until I read this. She really looks right at the scary stuff, and even when it's still scary, makes it okay to laugh through the tears. There's an exchange she has with her husband about the phrase, "It's your funeral," when faced with a bad decision, as well as her cousin Bonnie's response when she finally says, "So it turns out I'm kind of dying," that just make this book so three-dimensional and honest and just incredible. Yeah, I cried a lot. Read it with a box of Kleenex. But do read it. And then realize how much it totally sucks at the end when you can't text her and say, "Damn, Nina, that was a REALLY good book."

On my knees in gratitude to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the opportunity to read this brilliant memoir. I will be shocked if a single person gives this book less than 5 stars.

I just finished reading this book. Hollowed. Hopeful. Just like the title, The Bright Hour, has different connotations - the bright spot glowing on a cancer scan to the quote from Emerson describing morning and being a prisoner of a sick body.

The great-great-great-granddaughter of Ralph Waldo Emerson is diagnosed with "one small spot" of breast cancer when she is 37 years old. Married and the mother of two young boys, her mother is also dying of blood cancer. This book is divided into the stages of her cancer, interspersed with quotes from both Emerson and Montaigne that speak to the wonders of this world and feelings of death.

While you may think this would be a depressing read, it is anything but. Nina's grace, humor, candor and courage are anything but depressing. The other bright spots - her family, friends, health care workers - can only leave you with feelings of gratitude and hope that you will find similar allies when you face your trials. Because as she writes, remember you must die. But this book is about living more than anything and will make you look at life and relationships with a different eye.

The epilogue by her husband was gut-wrenching but Nina definitely chose well in her choice of a life partner and father of her sons. This book will be an amazing legacy for them.

Right now - preorder this book so that you have it in your hands when it is published. I couldn't put it down and am honored to have read it.

Beautiful, at times even lyrical prose. It is a heartwarming story that makes readers have a visceral reaction to the events that unfold.

A thoughtful story about family and life, illness and treatment, death and grief. At times it veered too far into philosophy and family history and away from the characters and plot, but overall was a insightful look at facing incurable cancer in a family member and then in yourself.

I was given this book by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This book was hard to read in many ways but told so beautifully. Highly recommended.