In an extraordinary memoir that skillfully negotiates between the fierce candor of a war veteran and the quiet sensibility of an artist, Pulitzer Prize-winning Boston Globe columnist Donald Murray dives head first into aging, a subject that is often only whispered about, stereotyped or, even worse, ignored. Turning his penetrating journalist’s eye for observance and revelation onto his own life, Murray ventures back through his seventy-plus years with an unsparing honesty and clarity that age has afforded him. Born to God-fearing Scottish parents, Murray grew up with little more than a handshake from his mother and a solidly constructed lack of confidence in his abilities and intellect. A sickly child with no siblings, he had only solitude to grow on–a lonely meal, but one that fed his imagination and his talent for sketching out the subtleties of life that have made his columns so beloved. From his struggles to put himself through college and his vivid experiences as a paratrooper in World War II, to his shaky acceptance of himself as a writer and his survival of immense personal tragedy, Murray addresses issues and emotions that society has long deemed taboo for men of his era: feelings of inadequacy, grief, family dysfunction, and most importantly, the indignities of age. But as he courageously sheds light on the difficult aspects of growing old, he discovers that there is more joy abundant in it than he ever imagined. Whether he is relaying a war story or his poignant ritual of listening for his wife’s breath each morning, Murray never shies away from a truth–no matter how uncomfortable it may be. Propelled forward by the love of his work, a quiet devotion to his family, and an unceasing commitment to understanding his place in the world, he is an elegant reminder that the drive to live fully does not end at retirement. In his hands, aging is adventurous terrain, full of possibilities and unprecedented insight–a time that we spend much of our life fearing but, when reached, bestows upon us unexpected gifts. "In my seventies, I have discovered I am not who I thought I was--and never have been," writes Boston Globe columnist Donald Murray. Murray retired from his university teaching job at 62 and had a heart attack a few months later. This experience and the years of aging that followed led him to contemplate his "lives" by writing this memoir in his '70s. The title refers to the notion that a writer lives life twice: once in the moment, and again in "the greater reality of reflection afterwards." Murray shares snippets of memories. As a child, he suffered beatings from his father (a leather shaving strap), his mother (a bone hairbrush, wet so it would hurt more), and the school bully (fists). He recounts how he found solace in books, notebooks, and make-believe siblings. Throughout the book, we get glimpses of his life and the meanings or lessons he learned. His experience as an "animal of war"--a paratrooper and military policeman in World War II--taught him that "few of us who fought are ever discharged from our wars." He refers to the death of his 20-year-old daughter several times, and finally tells the whole story with as much pain as if it happened yesterday. He tells fond stories about his wife, Minnie Mae, only revealing toward the end the day-to-day reality of caring for a wife with Parkinson's. "We don't grow older in an even march but in sudden lurches," writes Murray. He doesn't fear his own death, but fears indignity and dependence. My Twice-Lived Life does more than let us tiptoe into the private life and thoughts of an excellent writer--it beckons us to examine our own. --Joan Price In an extraordinary memoir that skillfully negotiates between the fierce candor of a war veteran and the quiet sensibility of an artist, Pulitzer Prize-winning Boston Globe columnist Donald Murray dives head first into aging, a subject that is often only whispered about, stereotyped or, even worse, ignored. Turning his penetrating journalist s eye for observance and revelation onto his own life, Murray ventures back through his seventy-plus years with an unsparing honesty and clarity that age has afforded him. Born to God-fearing Scottish parents, Murray grew up with little more than a handshake from his mother and a solidly constructed lack of confidence in his abilities and intellect. A sickly child with no siblings, he had only solitude to grow on a lonely meal, but one that fed his imagination and his talent for sketching out the subtleties of life that have made his columns so beloved. From his struggles to put himself through college and his vivid experiences as a paratrooper in World War II, to his shaky acceptance of himself as a writer and his survival of immense personal tragedy, Murray addresses issues and emotions that society has long deemed taboo for men of his era: feelings of inadequacy, grief, family dysfunction, and most importantly, the indignities of age. But as he courag