What I Inherited from My Mother Was Not at All What I Expected

When I think about my mother, my mind often goes to one of our annual visits to Cape Cod when I was younger. We were on our way to her friend Beverly’s house. “You’ve got to see her new rug,” she said, and then she proceeded to rave about the designer, Claire Murray, a purveyor of quaint, Cape Cod-themed home décor.

My mother didn’t covet much, but she made no secret about her feelings about that rug. The hand-hooked pile was plush, the design quintessential Cape Cod: the pale blue Atlantic Ocean surrounded by cedar-shingled cottages, lighthouses, starfish, sailboats, seagulls, windmills, and rose-covered trellises.