My Daughter Came Home Shaking With A Wrapped Box — And My Parents’ Sec…

I grew up in Grover, North Carolina.

Small town, the kind of place where everybody goes to the same church and everybody knows whose daughter got into college and whose didn’t.

In our family, there were two children.

Derek was the responsible one.

I was the sensitive one.

That is what my mother, Diane, called me from the time I could talk.

“Holly is sensitive.continue reading …