It doesn’t really make sense when things are left unfinished. It makes a lot less sense when it seems like a person’s work isn’t done before they are gone from us. It doesn’t seem possible that Brook Doseger’s work was done here.
I’ve been tossing the words around in my head for a couple days now, trying to describe the feelings that are all present; It’s been even harder to find the right words to describe Brook and all she has done for people.
The feelings started as shock and anger, followed by just an overwhelming sadness. How could the hilarious girl from my geography classes be gone? How could such a terrible thing happen to a wonderful person? As days passed, a tremendous amount of stories of her made way for celebrating the person she was and always will be.
Touching tributes continue to flood social media about her, and it swells my heart. All of these people influenced by one woman who was just doing her best every damn day. To those who knew her best, her family and closest friends, my sincerest condolences and thoughts. In a world with too few bright spots at times, Brook was always a light.
Talking with people who knew Brook well in the past days, the same things come forward to paint a picture of her so vividly. She was a kind soul who did all she could to support and help those in need. An invested and dedicated teacher. An unmatchable energy and passion for life, she lived with a song in her heart. A caring friend, and on top of all of these things, was authentically herself.
It was her writing, and her consistent prodding about “why the hell not” that had me start writing in the first place. I was inspired by her writing. It’s honest, hilarious, and deeply touching. Her authenticity was always at the forefront. She was herself, nobody else, and it made us all love her. There are lessons she was learning for us, and telling to us. Those will always endure.
I went to Boots and Hearts this year, where Brook was working. Once she found out I was going, she messaged me country lyrics I hadn’t actually heard before and promised my first beer would be iced and ready when I got there. I never got that beer because we lost touch that night. I know though that when the time comes, there will be a cold beer and a loud laugh waiting on the other side.
Thank you Brook, for being yourself and sharing that with the world. We miss and love you, and keep that drink on ice.
If you can, please donate to the GoFundMe in Brook’s name:
And please share in her touching writing as well: