My hair falls out in clumps.
I watch it wash down the shower
And I begin to cry.
It’s so silly the little things we hold on to, the little things that make us feel
Mommy is trying to make me feel pretty.
She does my hair,
She tells me “It’s going to be all right.”
I don’t know if I believe her.
I make the hot water burn my skin,
My muscles are stiff from being in bed for so long.
I cry so much in the shower,
Those days after,
But I particularly remember that day and watching my hair flow down the drain.
– Porridge: A Memoir
A memoir about life after death, and a little girl who nearly lost her life after her father lost his.