Your Stories Are Dying With You (And That's a Tragedy)

The Truth About the Stories We Keep Buried

She had this magnetic energy that could light up the darkest rooms. When she walked into the hospital, even the most cynical among us couldn't help but smile. She was the kind of person who made you believe in human goodness again.

I was practicing part-time at a rural, free-standing ER. She was one of the full-time nurses. She'd seen some of my writing and mentioned she wanted to start sharing her own stories. "I have so much to say," she told me over some shitty ultra-processed carbs one Tuesday morning.

Shortly after, I quit that job. Life scattered us in different directions.

We stayed in touch sporadically. But 18 months later, I learned her old enemy had returned. Cancer. She fought it with everything she had, the same fierce determination she brought to everything else.

But as it turns out, cancer doesn't care about your light.

She died before she ever wrote a single word.

All that wisdom, every personal story and patient encounter, all that perspective that could have helped someone…