I’ve been working back-to-back trade shows this month. I’ve been doing events for 35 years. There are skills that go into event management. Organization. Knowing how to troubleshoot. Bringing together all kinds of resources to get things done. It’s great work. Stressful, too. Trying to orchestrate the alignment of a thousand moving parts- within the parameters of an inflexible schedule- when there are countless factors out of your control, can make you crazy. I have definitel

For 57 years I was Tom Murphy’s daughter. Then one day, in May, I wasn’t anymore. Thing is, I used the phrase “Tom Murphy’s daughter” often. I mostly said it to my husband when he would lovingly chide me over being ridiculously early, or adherent to the rules, or worrying about safety. Because none of those are bad things- and are all too often rare things- I would explain myself proudly and with a smile: "I am Tom Murphy’s daughter.” It’s Father’s Day and I am no longer Tom

I have grief over my grief. Grieving Briana is my least favorite version of myself. Believe me when I say I’d like to not feel any of this. I know I’m miserable to be around; better than anyone else does. I can’t get away from myself. I’m here all the time and I am an absolute downer. My poor husband (a candidate for sainthood at this point) sees me crying, or going to bed at 7pm, or saying “I don’t care” when everyday life stuff comes up. We tried to go listen to live music

“We’re all terminal. Some of us just have more information.” - Lee Ludwig Meyers Lee was a pink sister (what we call fellow breast cancer warriors) who passed away on Valentine’s day 8 years ago. I actually met her for the first time before we both joined the cancer club. She was a performing arts diva. Hilarious. Charismatic. A force of nature. Truly. I attended a performance of hers and was instantly captivated by her presence. Years later I would meet her again at a charit

I started to text my Dad the other day to tell him we had made it home safely from our trip to California. It felt like a punch to the belly remembering he wouldn’t be there to receive my message. In fact, I have his phone. I call it sometimes to say what’s in my heart. It’s not weird if I’m erasing the messages, right? It mattered to my Dad that he knew where I was. He especially wanted to know that I’d made it home safely from work and road trips. It felt silly checking in

***written Monday night- I knew the moment we were in*** I don’t know when my brother, sister, Dad, and I last spent a night together under the same roof. Probably not since my siblings and I were kids. Tonight we are all together under the saddest circumstances. My siblings and I are in Dad’s hospital room, laying on makeshift beds- comprised of chairs turned every which way and whatever pillows we can find- and watching our father as his breaths slow. Sometime soon he will

WHAT I STARTED TO WRITE... I have three laptops with me in this hospital room. One for each job I’m doing at the moment. I’d love to have left it all behind so I can focus completely on my Dad and family. But, we still don’t know if we’re in a 5k or a marathon with his health issues. So I have to keep things going. I have a huge event in four weeks. Another in five. And yet another in seven. It’s a crazy load. Even if things were status quo, it would be stupid hard. Now, it f

One of the best hair days I’ve ever had was right before I started chemotherapy. I took a selfie. The color and cut were perfect (thank you, Colleen). The reddish tones popped against my teal dress and floral scarf. And I felt so beautiful- and so incredibly terrified- in that moment. If I can find the photo, I’ll share it in the comments. I was smiling in a way that defies all reason. I was about to enter one of the hardest seasons of my life, and I felt like a warrior and a

I am not my husband’s first love. Not his first marriage. Not his first choice for forever. Not his first lots of things. He’s a widower and the kind of man who commits for life, without fail. He is the most loyal man I’ve ever known. A true man of his word. But, as fortunate as I am to have a man like him, I wasn’t who he thought he would spend the rest of his days with. He had made those plans with the love of his life. When cancer cruelly took her in her 40s, he felt compl

Sandy Murphy- my late mother- would not dare to leave the house without her hair and makeup fully done. It didn’t matter where we were going. Grocery store. KFC drive thru. The park. Fishing. Every destination required the same amount of grooming effort. As a kid, I found this annoying because it took forever for her to apply her liquid eyeliner and tease her hair into voluminous submission. It was also imprinting. I absorbed my mom’s values surrounding appearance. By the tim

It’s shorts season now. A couple of weeks ago, after getting dressed for a busy Saturday, I found myself looking long in the mirror feeling really upset about my legs. They were pale, but I knew that part was temporary. I was more disappointed about the everlasting flaws. The cellulite. The weird visible veins and lipomas I’ve had since forever. The fact that one knee is perpetually bruised while the other is incessantly swollen. The lack of muscle tone that crept in during m

A dilapidated greenhouse sat in the backyard of our new home for more than a year before we decided to make it purposeful again. At first, we used it as storage. As a self-described black thumb, I never entertained the idea that I could grow something in there. We were setting up house afterall. That’s no easy feat. And, having given away nearly all of our memory-clad furnishings so we could start fresh together, my new husband and I were basically starting from scratch. Zero

I was born the day before Easter. In 2015, my birthday fell exactly on Easter Sunday. It’s happened again this year. And, it will repeat in 2037 (I’ll be 68), then 2048 (my 79th birthday), and then not again until I’ll be in Heaven. I hope to celebrate those next two Easters on this side. And I hope they’ll feel as meaningful and special as today does. When my birthday aligned with Easter in 2015, I nicknamed it “Meester.” Completely no disrespect to Jesus or the real reason