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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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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