Blog Author Maureen Goldman In Her Backyard

When Your Soul Prospers

My friend Betsy prays for prosperity every day. She asked me if I was trying to prosper through writing. “Yes,” shot out of my mouth like a reflex, because I knew she was talking about money. I didn’t want to sound like a dilettante. The truth is I don’t think about writing and money together.
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wrapped in daisies

Losing Your One-Track Mind

I’ve always been single-minded, pooling all my energy into one goal. It’s a strategy that helped me attend a favorite college and land a dream job in advertising. When I was seven, I locked my father out of the car until he threw his cigarettes in a trash can. He begged me to let him
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Me and My Father in 1967

A True Brother

They say there are no accidents. That is not true. I am a classic accident. Technically speaking, I am an only child born to Rita Marie Murray three months after her 18th birthday at Saint Vincent’s Hospital in Manhattan. This is not a joke. She told me I was a blue blood baby. I only
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Dixon Ticonderoga Pencils

Pencils Remind Me Of Second Chances

I am reading Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh again. Anne wrote it at the beach where she went alone to reflect on the pattern of her life. She wrote about her affinity for freshly sharpened pencils. I know exactly how she felt. There are so many satisfying things about pencils. Sharpening them is instantly
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Me and My Father in 1967

A Forgotten Father

“The best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless unremembered acts of kindness and love.” William Wordsworth Small acts of kindness are treats for two souls, the giver and receiver. They’re my emotional bread and butter. One of my favorite things to do is offer my spot in line at the supermarket when
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A photo of my mother age 16

My Mother Inoculated Me With Love

Forgiveness was never top-of-mind when I thought about my mom. A list of childhood grievances sat on my heart for decades. Now I think about how hard it was to be a young, single mother with a mental illness. Rita did some extraordinary, hair-raising things when I was growing up, like throwing her boyfriend’s computer
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Blog Author Maureen Goldman In Her Backyard

Living With Bipolar Disorder

I woke up this morning to a night sky and headed for my rocking chair on the porch. Stars and a sliver of the moon were still shining. Looking up I wondered why we readily make wishes upon stars and struggle to believe in ourselves. We are here in the flesh with all kinds of
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My Aunt Maureen with her children Tommy and Suzanne. Tommy is living with schizophrenia.

The Wise Man

My Aunt Maureen died last month. After the eulogy, we were quiet. Some of us got hives, some got bone-tired, some put their sadness in a box, storing it for another time. In my aunt’s home we returned to our safe routines, telling jokes, crazy-but-true family stories, and cleaning. We are really good at cleaning.
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