This is how my mother wanted to be remembered. My memory of her is… a little bit different. I’m sure everyone remembers their own version of her. Versions I wouldn’t even recognize. It’s all that’s really left of someone when they’re gone. But that’s the tricky thing. Nobody’s memory is perfect or complete. We jumble things up. We lose track of time. We are in one place and another. And it all feels like one long, inescapable moment. It’s just like my mother used to say:
THE FACT THAT CALLIE TORRES IS GOING TO SAY “I AM B I S E X U A L" ON LIVE TELEVISION IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF GREY’S ANATOMY AND SHE IS GOING TO EXPLAIN "I AM ATTRACTED TO BOTH, MEN AND WOMEN" JUST MAKES ME SO HAPPY AND PLEASED AND PROUD, THANK YOU SHONDA RHIMES. GOD BLESS YOUR SOUL AND YOUR EVIL BUT YET BRILLIANT MIND
↳ Surgeons are control freaks. With a scalpel in your hand, you feel unstoppable. There’s no fear, there’s no pain. You’re ten-feet tall and bulletproof. And then you leave the OR. And all that perfection, all that beautiful control, just falls to crap.