Life Is Not Always A Bowl Of Cherries

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My dear mother, passed away in 1987

My dear mother passed away in 1987

Life Isn’t Always A Bowl Of Cherries. I’ve heard this expression throughout my life many times. And I get it. No one’s life is perfect all the time. As we go through life, we will occasionally face difficult times. We can face health issues that we never would have thought would affect us. This has happened to me. When I was in my early 50s, I started experiencing angina pains up and down my right arm. Then, I began getting short of breath when going up and down steps or sometimes just walking too fast. I tried to ignore it, but it didn’t go away. So, I decided I would make an appointment to see my regular doctor.

The doctor listened to my heart and took my blood pressure. I was asked multiple questions about what I was doing at the time. I noticed changes in my ability to walk without shortness of breath, etc. My primary physician gave me a referral to a cardiologist. I was shaken up about the whole thing. I had just turned fifty, and in general, I had good health. I rarely got sick, I didn’t drink, I didn’t eat meat. I exercised every day. Nonetheless, it seemed as if I had a cardiac condition.

As I was leaving the doctor’s office, tears started running down my face. All I could think about was my mother. She had congestive heart failure, and ultimately, she died from it. Even though she was being treated for it. I was thirty-six when she passed away. My children were six and three at the time. They never really got to know either of my parents since my father had died the year before my mother died from lung cancer. He had been a long-time smoker;, sometimes, he smoked two packs a day. I never smoked. My mother smoked, but she only smoked two cigarettes a day. As it turns out, congestive heart failure is an inherited trait. And unfortunately, I inherited that trait.

Life is full of challenges. We have to face them and deal with them the best we can. We do not get out of life alive. Eventually, we will all pass away from something. I grew up in a family with six siblings. I had an older brother, Hugh who was twenty years older thatn I was, and my sister,, Jeanie who was ninteen years older than I was. Unfortunately, my sister, Jeanie, developed Emphysema; It was called Alpha-1 antitrypsin (AAT) deficiency. It is a genetic disorder that causes low levels of AAT, a protein that protects the lungs and liver. It’s also known as “genetic COPD” or “genetic emphysema.” It is an inherited trait. When she was forty-one, she passed away. She was among the kindest, generous, funniest people I ever knew. And she was absolutely beautiful. It has been almost fifty years since she passed away.

I still have three siblings, including my twin sister. My oldest sister, Eileen, was diagnosed with cancer a year ago and has spent the last year being treated with Chemotherapy and radiation. After a year, the doctors believe she is cancer-free. I can not tell you how much I admire my sister, who followed the doctor’s orders, endured the treatment, and never complained. She is my hero. My only wish for her is that in her remaining years, she remains cancer-free and healthy. My oldest sibling, who was twenty years older than me, passed away five years ago. My sister, who is my fraternal twin, has diabetes, but other than that, she seems healthy, and my sister, Liz, is well, as far as I know.

I know we have no guarantees in life, so I made a decision years ago after I was diagnosed with left heart failure that I was going to live my life to the fullest, for whatever time I had left. It has been twenty years since I was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. And I feel fine at this time, I try to eat healthy food (no meat, no sweets, no junk foord.} And so far, I am doing well. I’ve never had a heart attack, and I haven’t had angina pain in years. I believe I will live out whatever years I have left feeling well and making the most of each day of my life. Who could ask for more than that? As the French say, “ vivre la vie pleinement” Live life to the fullest. And that, my friends, is my advice. Live life, be happy.

 

 

 

The Time Just flew by

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Looking back over my lifetime, I realize that some of my best memories were my childhood experiences. I’m a baby boomer, meaning I was born between 1946 and 1964. They’re currently between 57-75 years old. I was born in 1951, and although I find it difficult to believe, I am presently seventy-three years old. I know I am 73, but I don’t feel that old. I still look forward to each new day, and I am busy from six-thirty in the morning until I go to bed at 8:45 at night.

My husband and I retired nine years ago and moved to North Carolina. Before that, we had lived in New Jersey for thirty-one years. We have also lived in Florida and California during our early years of marriage. I have had an interesting life and met many interesting and famous people. I have worked as a dental assistant and an oral surgeon assistant. When we lived in California and Bob, my husband, was attending Brooks Institute for Photography in Santa Barbara, I worked as a counselor at St. Vincent’s School and a live-in facility for mildly retarded children. I must admit that of all the jobs I had over my lifetime, St. Vincent’s School was my favorite. I came to love those children with my whole heart. 

After my husband had completed his education, we returned to New Jersey and Philadelphia. We lived with my parents for several months. Bob found employment as an engineering tech. And we decided that we would buy a house. Since Bob had served in the Military, he could buy a house without a downpayment. And that is precisely what we did. We found a house for sale in Pennsauken, New Jersey, in a nice middle-class neighborhood. We made an offer for the house, and it was accepted. It was a 1950’s house. It had three bedrooms, a small kitchen and dining room, and a half bath. It is a big yard, front and back. And then we proceeded to have two children, both daughters. I had been looking forward to having kids since I always loved playing and caring for my many nieces and nephews as a teenager. And I had also come to love the kids at St. Vincent’s. We spent the time before our first child was born updating our little house. We lived there for fourteen years. Our kids attended school at Pennsauken Elementary School.

Temple University, Tyler School of Art

When my oldest daughter was six, and my youngest was three, I decided to attend college. I was thirty-six at the time. I applied to three art schools and was accepted by all of them. I decided to participate in Temple University, Tyler School of Art, and Hussian School of Art. However, I decided to attend Tyler School of Art because they offered me financial assistance and a scholarship for the first year.

I’m not going to lie. It was difficult attending college full-time with two small children. Luckily, one of my neighborhood friends offered to babysit my kids after school and on holidays. I babysat her daughter, who was about my oldest daughter’s age, during the Summer since I didn’t take Summer classes.

I did not get much sleep during those four years, but it was one of the best experiences of my life. I was the only adult student in all my classes. And often, the other students thought I was a teacher. However, as time passed, I befriended all the students in my classes. By the end of my four years at the Tyler School of Art, I was known to almost everyone in the school, Mainly because on our lunch break, I would go down to the student cafeteria and ask if I could eat lunch at their table if there were an empty seat and they always said yes. In this way, I befriended every student in the school. And some of the teachers who were about my age. It was challenging to go to college at my age, but I loved every minute of it, and never regretted it for a minute. The day my class graduated from school. I got a standing ovation from everyone. I have to say it was one of the best experiences of my life. When I think back on it, I don’t know how I did it. But, overall, I think that once I am determined to accomplish something, I will do it, no matter how difficult or complicated. When I attended Tyler, I was the only adult student, but more and more adult students attend college. And to tell you the truth, the day I graduated was one of the proudest moments of my life.

After I graduated from Tyler, I applied for every art teacher position I could find. As I started sending out my resumes to different public schools in other areas of New Jersey, I became aware that the schools were no longer teaching art. They decided it was necessary. But, of course, it is. Anything that teaches children how to think creatively has excellent value for their whole lives due to not finding employment. I decided that I was going to start an Art School of my own. And then, I started looking for a house in the South Jersey area. One day, I received a newsletter with an advertisement on the front page for a big, old Victorian home in Pitman, NJ. That was for sale. And my husband and I attended the Open House. And it was exactly what I envisioned, except that it had been unoccupied for the past eight years. It was in need of repair, a new roof, right off the bat since the roof was leaking, it had wood floors throughout, but it was in bad repair, it was covered in wall paper from decades ago that was glued to the walls. It was a house with four bedrooms, two and a half baths, two cellars, and a third floor that was immense. In addition, the previous owner had a business in which he dedicated two rooms and a bathroom. And this, my friends, was perfect for my “ Art Room.“ After several months of cleaning and remodeling these rooms, I posted an advertisement in the “Pitman News and World News Report.” Within two months, children and adolescents came to my art room for classes, and adults arrived at night.

It was a great experience, and I became friends with all of my neighbors and many of the people who lived in Pitman. This is an old saying, but none-the-less truth. “Never give up. Just try, try again. And that is precisely what I did.

And so, we lived in Pitman, New Jersey, for twenty-four years. And I loved every minute of it. We stayed there until it was time for us to retire. And so here I am some eight years later in North Carolina. Believe it or not, I volunteer at an animal sanctuary, caring for birds, Parrots, Macaws, finches, pheasants, and doves. I have always been a great lover of all animals. Presently, I have two dogs, ten birds, and a cat that resides in our house. And we have a Koi pond in our backyard, and I feed all the wild birds in our yard. I have seven bird feeders. I don’t know my future, but I assure you it will be interesting and challenging.

It All Began With My Neighbors Cats

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Strottles on a bad day

I grew up in the small town of Maple Shade, New Jersey, in the 1950s and lived there until I was twenty. There were a great many children my age living in Maple Shade, so there were always friends to play with me. But, occasionally, I would find myself alone and go over to my neighbor’s house and visit her cats. Her cats lived in her house, but they had access to a cellar window where they could go outside in a large fenced area in her backyard to spend the day outside for as long as they wished. I loved to go over and talk to the cats and often spent most of the day there. Mrs. Collins lived two houses down from my house. So, my mother never had to go far to find me. Suppose it was time for lunch or dinner. She just called out,” Time for lunch, Susan.”

I also befriended all my neighbor’s dogs. I constantly begged my parents to get a dog. My neighbor, the Lombardi’s, had a cat they fed but were not allowed to live in their house. His name was Strottles, And I made it my business to spend a good part of my day talking to him and feeding him snacks that I would get out of our refrigerator. I was careful not to take any of my father’s favorite foods, or he would have “a bird,” as my mother used to say.

Strottles spent much time coming to our kitchen door and meowing when hungry. One day, my mother was taking the trash out to the garbage can, inadvertently leaving the side kitchen door open. And Strottles came into the kitchen. I suppose he was looking for something to eat. Unfortunately, my mother had left her pet parakeet out of the cage, and he was walking across the kitchen table, knocking the knives and forks off the table, Which was his daily habit. And Strottles managed to jump on the table, and he killed my mother’s pet, whom she loved dearly. This broke my mother’s heart. And my father blamed me because I had befriended the cat that killed my mother’s birdy. I ended up getting a spanking, and my father made me go down into the cellar until he told me I could come up to the kitchen again. I was broken-hearted. I love my mother’s little bird, too, and I never wanted it to be harmed in any way. I felt bad about my mom’s bird being killed. The guilt was overwhelming at times. And although it has been over sixty years, I never forgot it.

Somehow, this event did not deter my love of animals, but I did become aware of keeping all my feathered and furry friends safe from harm. And that remains true to this day. And here I am in the last years of my life, and over the years, I have owned and loved many cats and birds, mostly cocktails, and several dogs.

Presently, I have two dogs and ten birds. And one cat. For the last nine years since I retired, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary. And I have been taking care of parrots, doves, and occasionally pheasants. Over two hundred animals live at the sanctuary, and it feels like my childhood dream has come true. At one point in my life, I considered attending school to become a veterinarian. But realized it would take many years since I was thirty-six. Instead, I applied to Tyler School of Art at Temple University in Philadelphia, PA. I was the only adult student in the Freshman Class. But, honestly, that never bothered me. I befriended all the students who attended Tyler with me. And some of the teachers who were my age. It wasn’t easy because I had two young children at the time, a house, and a husband to care for. But, somehow, I got through those four years. And graduated at the top of my class Magnum Cum Laude. I taught Art to children and adults for many years in a school I opened up in our new Pitman, New Jersey home.

But I had a house with eight cats and a couple of birds, not to mention all the wild birds I fed and the neighbor’s cats. Who somehow found out about me and came crying at my back door. I realized over time that these outside cats were propagating like crazy, so I bought a couple of large traps, captured them, and took them to the vet’s to have them altered so they wouldn’t have any further kittens. I found homes for the kittens that had already been born, and I kept several of them myself.

Life offers us many opportunities to do good in the world and make the most of our time here.

After I graduated from college at the top of my class with two degrees and teaching credentials. I worked in Social Service positions in Camden, NJ. I worked at the Center for Family Service with Wilson Goode. We matched at-risk kids in Camden with mentors from the five churches with mentors from churches. In this capacity, I had to visit the parents of some of these children who were incarcerated in prison for reasons I didn’t always know. I had to explain to the parents that I needed their permission to match their child or children with mentors from the churches in the hope of preventing their children from repeating their parent’s mistakes and ending up in prison. Most parents were more than willing to help their children in any way they could. The Center for Family Services, which employed me, would match these children with church members. It was not an easy job, but it is one that I feel provided a better life for the children who lived in Camden, NJ. After that, I worked at Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ, as a counselor with at-risk adolescent boys adjudicated by the court for various infractions with the police. These boys had grown up under difficult circumstances and didn’t always have good role models; most lived in poverty. I worked at Ranch Hope for five years, a complex and challenging position. I do feel that I succeeded with these boys to some degree and that some did manage to change their behavior so that when they were released from their time at Ranch Hope, there was a strong possibility that they could go out in the world and keep out of trouble and hopefully make some positive contributions.

I look back at that time and wonder how I had gotten through those years. They were not easy ones. But I do feel that I did give those boys an opportunity to create a better life for themselves. I knew that there were some adults in their lives who wanted them to move forward, succeed in life, and hopefully do better than their parents had done.

I’ve had many jobs over my long life, and I believe I have learned as much from the children I’ve taught as they have learned from me. I have no regrets about my life at all. I have lived all over the country in New Jersey, Florida, and California and now retired in North Carolina. I no longer work with at-risk kids. I work with animals, who have also been one of the great loves of my life. I don’t know my future since I am now seventy-three years old. But I know that as long as I have breath in my body, I will continue to do good for as long as possible.

WHERE WOULD WE BE WITHOUT THE ANGELS THAT COME INTO OUR LIVES

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It all began one rainy Spring morning. I kept hoping the rain would stop since it had rained daily for the last two weeks. I know that April showers bring May flowers, but could we please have at least one day when the sun is shining? I was expecting a package in the mail, so I knew I would have to make a run for the mailbox sooner or later since there were at least five days of mail in my mailbox. I know it’s mostly crap, but still, I was hoping I would get a surprise package from my Aunt Betty since today was my birthday. And she always sent me a birthday card and a gift.

I decided to put on my old raincoat and run for the mailbox. Lo and behold, my dear aunt had not left me down. When I opened the mailbox, a package was shoved way back in it, along with a whole big pile of junk mail. I have no idea how my name got on every junk mail list. 

I grabbed the mail and the package and ran for the side door as quickly as possible. And just as I was about to grab the door handle, I lost my footing and fell flat on my face. The mail was scattered in every direction. I groaned and moaned. It felt like I chipped my front tooth. The one I just had capped recently cost me almost five hundred dollars since they had to do a root canal and the crown. If I weren’t lying on the cold, wet cement driveway, I would have started crying.

I made it to the door, pulled it open as quickly as possible, and smacked myself. I felt a tear, and then another ran down my cheek. I realized that it was raining even harder in addition to my tears. I gingerly picked myself up and slowly went through the door. Luckily, the package was in one piece, but the mail was scattered everywhere and was getting wetter by the minute. I wiped away the tears and ran for my life. Well, that could be a slight exaggeration. But, most likely, I would get a cold or pneumonia from the soaking rain. Or, once again, I may be exaggerating.

I made it into the house without any further drama. I put the mail on the kitchen table and then moved it to the top of the kitchen heating vent to dry. Most likely, It was all junk mail, and it wouldn’t matter one way or the other. I decided I would do the laundry and then vacuum all the rugs. Before I knew it, I cleaned the bathrooms, including the tub, shower, and toilet. Suddenly, I had a burst of energy and decided to vacuum all the bedrooms and clean the windows on the inside. I tend to get carried away with whatever I’m doing. And this, my friends, is why I’m not married and never will be. I drive everyone away with my manic behavior. What can I say, like Popeye used to say, “I am who I am.”

After I finished cleaning the whole house, I considered going out and looking at my garden, but then I remembered it was pouring outside, and the plants would be delicate without me today or whenever it stopped raining. I made myself a cup of hot tea and peanut butter on toast. This has been my favorite breakfast since I was a kid. I love peanut butter. After finishing my breakfast and cleaning up my mess, I decided to examine the mail and see if any of it was worth looking at or if it was all junk mail, as expected.

Then I realized that two letters were stuck together, and the letter on the bottom was from my Aunt Betty. I was so happy that she wrote to me. She is my favorite person on the planet. She raised me when my father and mother divorced, and neither wanted to raise me. I was heartbroken for many years after that. If it weren’t for my Aunt Betty, I would have been put into foster care since my parents didn’t want me.

I slowly opened the envelope, and my Aunt Betty said, “Dear Marie, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. Do you remember the old commercial on TV where the old woman said, “I’ve fallen and can’t get up?” Well, I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up. I know you are busy with your work, but is there any way you can come and take care of me while I recover? I broke one of my legs and will have to use a walker for a while. I have been assured that I will be up and walking, but it will take a while, and I will need to go and get physical therapy until my leg heals. If you can’t come, I understand, and I will have to go to a nursing home until I heal. Please call me as soon as you know if you can come. Love, Aunt Betty.

I picked up my cell phone and called my Aunt Betty. I waited and waited while the phone rang. Then I heard someone pick up and, in a very low voice, say,” Hello, is someone there? Is someone there?”

“Yes, Aunt Betty, it’s me, Marie. Of course, I can come. I have some vacation time left, or I could do my online work. Do you have the internet, Aunt Betty?”

“ Well, you probably won’t believe this, but I recently installed the internet in my house. All my neighbors kept haunting me day and night to get it installed, and I did. It took a while, but it’s working now.”

“Aunt Betty, I will have to inform my employer what I will be doing, but there shouldn’t be any problem at all. I will give you a call tomorrow when I am about to leave and call you when I’m an hour away. I’m so sorry you got hurt, I love you Aunt Betty, I’ll see you seen. She said, “Oh, you are such an angel, “I love you too. I can’t wait to see you again. Bye, see you tomorrow.” And then she hung up.

I contacted my employers and let them know what I was doing. They didn’t have a problem as long as I continued to complete my work on time. Thank God for the internet; that’s all I can say. I spent the rest of the day packing my stuff, including my laptop and printer. I made some sandwiches and iced tea for the long trip and decided to go to bed early since tomorrow would be a long day.

I had a somewhat restless night. I kept waking up and looking at the clock, afraid I would oversleep. But the alarm woke me up right on time. I took a quick shower and got dressed. I left a note in the mailbox and asked the mailman to tell the post office to hold my mail until I called them and let them know when I would be back from my Aunt’s house.

I put my suitcases in the trunk. I hoped all my plants wouldn’t die, but if they did, they did. My aunt was more important than any plant. The whole time I was driving to my aunt’s house, I thought of all the good memories of my aunt and the childhood I spent with her. She is truly the most loving and caring person I have ever known. And I would do anything I could for her, as she had done for me. I do not remember a single complaint from my Aunt when I was living with her, even during those teenage years when I must have been difficult at times. It took me a long time to make friends at the school I attended while I lived with my aunt. Every day, she made me breakfast, packed my lunch, and met me where the bus let me out. She was never late, she gave me a big hug when she saw me, as if she hadn’t seen me in days or even weeks. And oh, how I loved her hugs,

My parents were not big on showing affection. Nor did they ever seem that interested in my experiences in school or who my friends were. And once their marital problems appeared, things just went downhill from there. First, my father moved out, and then my mother informed me that I would be living with my Aunt Betty since she would have to work full-time now. She would have to live in a small one-bedroom apartment in the city, and there wouldn’t be any room for me anymore. As soon as my mother told me that, it felt like my heart broke in two. My father, said, “you be a good girl, I hope to see you soon sometimg. And he was out the door and he never looked back, I never heard from him again. I’ve only seen my mother once a year at Christmas since then. Sometimes, she didn’t come at all and just sent me a Christmas Card with ten dollars in it. I wrote long, long letters to my father and mother. Telling them how much I missed them. And asking them when they were coming to get me. Over time, it became clear to me that they would never get me. And if a heart can break in two, I believe my heart did, or maybe it was shattered altogether. And I would never be able to feel whole again.

My Aunt Betty was the kindest, most loving person I ever knew in my entire life. It is only because of her that I learned there are caring and loving people in the world. I was a person of value who could do anything I wanted to do in life if I set my mind to it. And they never never lost faith in me because of her. And if I had to spend the rest of my life caring for her, I would do it. As I recalled all these memories, I realized how much I missed my Aunt Betty, not just her wonderful cooking, but everything about her, her hugs, her kisses. Every day I spent with her was a good day, living where she loved me and would do anything for me if I needed it.

Before I realized it, I was within three miles of my aunt, and I gave her a call to let her know. She didn’t answer the phone, I realized it must be the nurse or caregiver that was talking, I explained, this is Marie, Aunt Betty’s niece, I will be at the house in about fifteen minutes. Would you please let my aunt know I’ll be there soon? She said, “Yes, I will. She has been so looking forward to you. She will be so happy. See you soon.”
The last fifteen minutes of the drive flew by, and before I knew it, I was at my aunt’s home. And so many good memories came flying back to my mind. It looked the same. To tell the truth, it looked like heaven to me. I parked the car under the Willow tree and grabbed my bags out of the trunk. And before I knew it, I was knocking on the door. One of the caretakers came to the door with a big smile on her face and said. “Miss Betty has been so looking forward to you. Oh, I forgot my name, Teresa. Could I take those bags for you? Miss Betty will be so happy.”

I handed over my bags and I said, “ I have a few other bags, but I’ll bring them in later, don’t worry about it. And I ran up the steps two at a time. I looked around the house, and it didn’t look any different from the last time I was here. I couldn’t imagine coming here without my aunt living here. The very thought of the rest of my life without her loving presence in my life would be hard to endure. But, somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew my Aunt Betty didn’t have much time in her life. And I also realized that I would be staying here with my dear aunt for whatever time she had left on this planet. When I quietly knocked on her door, I heard her sweet voice say: “Marie, is that you? Oh, I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my whole life. Please come over and give me a hug.” I didn’t know it at the time, but it would be the last hug I gave my dear aunt.

I pulled up a rocking chair next to her bed and quietly watched her as she closed her eyes, and then about five minutes later, I saw my dear aunt take her last breath and close her eyes. And I knew that my dear aunt had left this world, and I would miss her for the rest of my days. But I know she will always live in my heart and memories. And that someday, when my life would come to an end. We would meet again. I felt warm tears run down my face as I held her wrinkled hands and heard her take her last breath. This is the person who had loved me unconditionally my entire life. And I knew that someday we would meet again. But, until then, I would keep her in my heart and in my thoughts.

 

 

 

OH HOW TIME HAS FLOWN BY

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     It seems my life has flown by in the blink of an eye. I can clearly remember my childhood experiences growing up in Maple Shade, New Jersey. And the eight years I spent at Our Lady of Perpetual Help School. And the four years I spent at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, New Jersey. I can’t say that all my experiences attending Catholic School were all good ones. However, I made a lot of friends. Not to mention, I learned all the basic skills, like reading, writing, and arithmetic. The nuns were strict, and I’m not exaggerating. Suppose you spoke when you were not allowed to or were caught looking at someone else’s work. Well, woe be it to you. You were going to pay a high price. I learned a lot while I attended Catholic Elementary School. But not all of it was good. But it wasn’t all bad, either. And then there were the surprises if we got too much snow on a winter’s day. The school would be closed.
On the other hand, we only lived two houses down from OLPH School. And if the dear “sisters” saw us (my twin sister and I) out playing in the snow. We would be dragged into the school to do manual labor, which could be anything from cleaning the blackboards to cleaning the desks, etc.

When I graduated from grade school, I had to take entrance exams to attend the Catholic High Schools in the area. Somehow, “by the grace of God.” I passed the exams and was invited to participate in Holy Cross High School or St. Mary of the Angels Academy. My parents decided it would benefit them if we attended an all-girls school (St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy). I enjoyed my time there except for Math Class, which I barely passed. In fact, “by the grace of god that I passed.” I didn’t learn higher Maths until I was a grown adult when I decided to learn all Maths, which started with adding/subtracting, multiplication, and algebra.

Why, you may ask? Because I decided I wanted to teach people struggling with math how they, too, could learn. In addition, I taught writing skills and reading. And prepped them to pass the GED class and eventually be able to earn “their high school diploma..” It was one of the most rewarding experiences I have had. I felt a great accomplishment to give someone a hand-up in their lives. The only problem I encountered was when one of the students who wanted help learning to read or write in English didn’t speak English. She was Japanese, and alas, I didn’t talk, nor could I write in Japanese. So, I had to search for someone in my area to help them, and after quite a while, I found a good teacher for them.

Tyler School of Art at Temple University

It was about this time, I was thirty-five, that I decided I wanted to go to college. I had two young children. Who were six and three? Luckily, I had a good friend who lived a couple of blocks away from me who agreed to watch my little girls if I would babysit their daughter during the Spring Holidays and all Summer. And that is what I did for the next four years until I graduated from Temple University, Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia at forty-one. The only student of non-traditional age. Those four years at Tyler were stressful and exciting; I have always looked back at that time as a success. I graduated at the top of my class Magnum Cum Laude with two degrees and teaching credentials. The final reward was that my graduating class gave me a standing ovation when I received my diploma.

And then I got some bad news: Communities all over the area had stopped funding elementary and high school art classes. I have to say that it was a devastating ending to my teaching art in public schools.

That was when I decided to look for a big house with many rooms where we could live, and I would have plenty of space to teach both children and adults. We found a beautiful old house built in 1910. It had been empty for eight years. It was in great need of repair, both inside and out, including a new roof, new heater and air conditioner, and on and on. But my husband and I decided this was the house for us. It was perfect because it had three rooms that had been used by the previous owner, who was a doctor. We attended an open house and decided to buy it. And the rest is history. We could not sell our smaller home and ended up renting it until we could find a buyer. The rent went towards the outstanding mortgage payments until it was paid off.

Our New plus 110-year-old house, although neglected for many years, was a dream come true. Over the twenty-four years we lived there, we renovated the house from top to bottom, redid the hardwood floors throughout, repaired and replaced the roof, and painted the wrought iron fence. In fact, by the time we finished all the work, it was almost time for us to retire.

When I advertised the Grand Opening of “THE ART ROOM. “ This was in 1994.I had an open house. Almost all the people that lived in Pitman came to see our home. Over those many years, I taught everyone from the age of five to senior citizens, including my next-door neighbors, Marie and Bob Batten, a retired dentist and his wife. We became close friends with them over the twenty-four years that we lived in Pitman. Practically everyone in town came to our Grand Opening since they wanted to see what it looked like. The previous owners kept to themselves for the most part, save for the previous owners who used to see the Doctor who owned the house for whatever ailments these people suffered.

In the ensuing years, I taught art to people of every age and had the pleasure of meeting their families. As the years flew by, I realized that once Bob and I retired, we would not be able to afford to live in Pitman or anywhere in New Jersey, as we were paying $40,000 a year on real estate taxes.

So, it was with a heavy heart that we put our house up for sale and started looking at the South for a place to retire. After several weeks of investigating what state would be our best place to retire, we decided that North Carolina was definitely an option. We made plans to drive to North Carolina and see if we were making the best decision. And so, here we are nine years later, retired and living in North Carolina. Retired.

After we got settled here at our new home, I decided that I was going to look for a volunteer job so that I could continue contributing and make a difference. I decided that since I had spent the last twenty years teaching art or working as a counselor in Social Services positions at Ranch Hope. It was located in Alloway, NJ. I was caring for and supervising at-risk male youth who were adjudicated by the courts to live there until they reached eighteen. I worked there for five years. It was not an easy job, nor did it have great hours. In addition, I was the first woman hired to work with these boys, and until that time, it was all me. After they realized that I was quite capable of counseling these boys and keeping them, for the most part, out of trouble. More women were hired.

For the most part, I would say my time working was the most rewarding position I ever held. I came to love all those boys with my whole heart.

In addition, after I left Ranch Hope, I worked for the Center for Family Services in Camden, New Jersey. I worked with five of the churches in Camden, matching adults from the churches to mentor the at-risk youth who grew up with one or more of their parents being incarcerated. I worked there for several years. And I came to love the people who lived in the city, a city that was often in turmoil because of drugs and violence. I usually had to visit the parents of these at-risk kids in their homes in center-city Camden. It was not a safe place.
Nonetheless, I found that their parents were good people who wanted the best for their children. At times, I had to visit one of their parents in the prison where they were incarcerated to talk to the parents about our programs for their children. I have to say I was somewhat afraid at first to go to all these prisons, but over time, I realized that these were just human beings who made mistakes in their lives. Some huge mistakes, like murder, drug dealing, etc. Nonetheless, they loved their children and hoped and prayed for a better life for their children. I made every effort to be respectful to those who were incarcerated. Yes, they were flawed humans, but they were still people who had difficult choices and few opportunities in life. However, as a whole, they all wanted their children to have better lives than they had experienced. It was an experience that gave me more empathy and understanding of people who make poor choices in their lives. And we’re paying a high price for their mistakes. And unless you or I have experienced growing up in a ghetto, in poverty, just trying to get from one day to the next, we can’t possibly know what their lives have been like. And we can’t compare their lives to their own.

I have learned a great deal about life from my experiences, and I regret nothing I have seen or experienced. I had the opportunity to work with Wilson Good, the former mayor of Philadelphia—the first black Mayor of a major city in the United States.

I am retired and living in North Carolina, but I have volunteered at Animal Edventure, an animal sanctuary in Coats, NC, for the past eight years. I take care of birds. Yes, that is a big, giant step from working with at-risk youth, but I’ve been an animal lover for as far back as I can remember.

I don’t know what the future will hold for me, but I know I’m not one to sit in front of the TV all day watching soap operas. I look forward to whatever adventure comes my way.

DON’T WAKE UP YOUR FATHER

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     Life can throw you a ball way out in left field. And you may never know what hit you. As for me, life sent me a curve ball right off the bat. My mother was blessed with many children during her life. She was married to the same man for over fifty years. Throughout her marriage, she gave birth to ten children. Six of them survived. When she was forty-one years old, she began to have symptoms of morning sickness. She couldn’t believe she was pregnant again. Every morning, she woke up feeling sick, and sometimes, she felt ill all day and night. She couldn’t believe she was going to have another child.
When she went to the doctor for the blood test, she was informed that she was indeed pregnant again. And the doctor was thrilled to tell her she would have twins again. This time it was a set of twin boys, who were named Stephen and Gerard. After the school that Harry, my father, grew up in. It was the Gerard College. He didn’t get out until he was sixteen years old. His mother was a window and couldn’t stay home to care for Harry. And he only saw her once a year on Christmas until he graduated from Gerard College and got a job.

My Dear Mother

     Marie’s (my mother’s) youngest children at the time were seven and eight. Her twin babies were toddlers, and she had been sure that changing diapers and feeding baby bottles were a thing of the past. All her kids were old enough to attend school or had graduated from high school except the twin girls. Her oldest son was attending a University and hoped to be a psychologist shortly. Her oldest daughter was married recently, had moved out of state, and was starting her own family.

     She thought life was going to get much easier soon. What with all the children being of school age or in college or moved away in the distant future. She hoped none of them would get married shortly because she didn’t want to start caring for grandchildren. She was content with all the children either in school or living independently. She wanted nothing more than to say her rosary, read a book, take a walk, visit her friends and neighbors, and share a cuppa of tea or coffee with one of her church lady friends. She changed her share of diapers and helped the older children with homework.

     Oridnarily her husband, Hugh(Harry) would work the late shift at his job. He worked third shift at the PTC Bus Company in Philadelphia as a dispatcher until he was 62, retirement age.. He had been working there for almost thirty years. He slept during the day, and he worked the night shift. All the children had to keep quiet lest they wake up their father, and nobody wanted that since he was an awful grouch when he was awakened during the day.

     In fact, he was rarely in a good mood. When the kids arrived home from school, they were warned to keep it down. And don’t ever wake up your father, or you will regret it. As a result, the younger kids would get home from school and change their clothes. Then, they would go out to play until dinnertime. By then, their father would have gone to work, and it was safe to turn on the TV. And then Marie would get dinner started.

high school graduation picture

Susan Culver- high school graduation picture

     Marie was a quiet woman and didn’t talk often. But, she was a good listener to all her children. She had a big heart and always had a kind word to say about everyone. She had worked hard all her life and never complained. When her youngest children ( my twin sister and I) were in high school, Marie got a job working in the kitchen at Wanamaker’s restaurant at the Moorestown Mall in New Jersey. She was working because her two youngest daughters( my sister and I ) attended a private, all-girls Catholic High School in Haddonfield, NJ. It was called Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy. And the tuition was relatively high. Marie never complained, no matter how tired or worn out she was. When she got home from work, after taking the bus from Moorestown, NJ, to home, Marie was exhausted and on her feet all day. She was sixty-two years old.. But, she would have to go home, get dinner ready, and do a load of washing. Yet, she still never complained. Her husband, Harry, was already at his night job and wouldn’t be home until late. He was only home for meals on his days off, except for Sunday morning when he was home. He would help Marie by making the toast. In contrast, she cooked breakfast for everyone and cleaned the kitchen and the old stove.

My father- 1960's

My father.

     Still, I know my parents did their best and loved each of us in their own way. From the outside, my family and my childhood were typical of every other child my age who lived in Maple Shade in the 1950s. My mother stayed at home in our early childhood until we graduated from elementary school and entered high school. My father somehow maintained a life of his own to some degree. In addition to working full-time at SEPTA, the bus company where he worked, he worked part-time at Johnny Marrow auto supply store on his days off. The Morrow lived over the auto-supply store. It was a small apartment. My father was a hard-working man, and I rarely saw him because of his sleeping during the day on account of his working nights. And then, on his days off, he worked a part-time job. In addition, my father played the horses at Cherry Hill race tract, and he played cards for money. He had a life that was somewhat disconnected from his family life. Still, I loved my father more than I could ever express, and I wanted nothing more than to feel that he loved me back. Somehow, I believed he did love me but did not know or have the ability to express his love to me or my fellow siblings in any concrete way.

     The experience that firmly assured me that my father indeed loved me occurred when I was twenty- years old, and I had been working full-time as a dental assistant for three years. I found a one-bedroom apartment in Haddonfield, New Jersey, somewhat coincidentally, as I also attended high school in Haddonfield at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy. It was a beautiful town where primarily wealthy people lived. While I lived there, I made it a habit to visit the Haddonfield Library, which was within walking distance of my little one-bedroom apartment. In addition, I could walk downtown and visit all the beautiful little shops. I often walked by St. Mary’s, which brought back many memories, mostly good.

     After I moved to my apartment, my father paid me an unexpected visit. Luckily, I was home. He came in and looked all around and said very little to me. I could see he missed me and didn’t understand why I moved away from home. As a parent of grown children, I now understand how he felt. I feel sorrow if I hurt my parents by moving away, but at the time, I thought it was necessary for me to become independent and reliant on myself.

     Not long after, my oldest friend Joan Gioiella contacted me and asked me if I was interested in going out with her boy cousin, and I said yes. He was visiting his extended family in New Jersey, who lived in Philadelphia, Pa. And some that lived in New Jersey. And that my friends were the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I went out with her cousin, and over time, we wrote back and forth with each other for quite a long time. And before you knew it, I had decided that I was going to move to Florida to be near Bob.

Me and my siblings years ago.

     So, I packed up all my belongings that could fit in my almost brand-new 1970s Volkswagon and went on my merry way by car and auto train to West Palm Beach, Florida. Bob had found an apartment for me, and my friends were the beginning of a new chapter in my life. That chapter would take me across the country to California, and that is a whole new chapter. You can only imagine how distraught my parents were when I moved so far away from home.

FALL IS THE SEASON

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Fall in New Jersey at our previous home

Fall weather is a balance between summer’s heat and winter’s cold, with cool mornings and warm afternoons. The cooler temperatures are good for your health, and fall is also less humid than other seasons.

Fall weather is a balance between summer’s heat and winter’s cold, with cool mornings and warm afternoons. The cooler temperatures are good for your health, and fall is also less humid than other seasons.

It was the last fall that I had experienced for a long time. I grew up in New Jersey and lived there until I was twenty-two. That is when I moved to Florida. Fall was my absolute favorite time of the year. The long, hot, and humid Summer was over. And I looked forward to the cooler weather. And, I so looked forward to the changing of leaves on the trees. Of course, moving to Florida meant no more wonderful fall weather and no more changing of the trees to fall’s beautiful orange and yellow colors.

When I was a child, I absolutely loved Summertime. The main reason was that I no longer had to attend school. I attended Catholic grade school at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight years in Maple Shade, NJ. Then I attended St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy Catholic High School in Haddonfield, NJ. For four years the last day of school was a day to celebrate for the teachers as well as the students.

Fall announced the beginning of the school year. I can not tell a lie, and I did not enjoy grade school at all. I made many friends while I attended school, but the regiment was the “dear nuns.” I did not enjoy that at all. But, despite that Fall also meant I had to return to school, it also brought the cool weather and the turning of the tree’s leaves to all their magnificent colors. I absolutely loved it. I would ride all over town on my bike and often rode my bike to Strawbridge Lake. In the winter, my friends and I would ice-skate on the frozen Lake. For the rest of the year, we would walk or ride our bikes to the lake and have picnics there. We would also watch the fishermen. We would walk across the waterfall, which was a No-No, but nonetheless, we would all dare each other to cross over to the other side. We would often spend the whole day there. My parents never asked where we were all day, as long as we got home in time for lunch. They never had any idea what we were up to.

Fall is almost the perfect season because it has everything we want and needs to end happily and begin again. Embrace the change and embrace Fall! Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday, after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade. Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday, after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade.

To top that all off, we would go out trick or treating all over town. And we carried bags to put all the candy into each time we knocked at someone’s house and yelled, “Trick or Treat” at the top of our lungs. I went out with all my girlfriends and the neighborhood boys. And once our bags(pillowcases) were full, we would all return to our homes and dump the candy on the kitchen table. And then, we would go out again until we had filled the bags at least twice.

And let me tell you something: there was no one that had a bigger sweet tooth than me. In fact, I believe the whole Boomer Generation had sweet tooths. Because this was back in the days when there were stores that sold penny candy. And if you had a quarter, you could get twenty-five pieces of candy. I kid you not. Our neighborhood candy store was called Schucks. The Schuck family owned it.

I would spend a day walking up and down Main Street, looking for a change that people had dropped. And sure enough, I always found some change. And no sooner did I see it than I would make my way to Schuck’s. Mrs. Schuck’s family owned the store. And it had a large candy counter with every kind of candy you could imagine. Mrs. Schuck knew all the names of the kids who lived in Maple Shade, where I grew up. She would patiently stand there while I would tell her what candy I wanted, and then she would put them all in a brown paper bag. And I would hand her all my change, which most often was pennies or, if I was lucky, nickels.

In addition to selling penny candy, Schucks had a luncheon counter and made milkshakes, sodas, and hoagies. There was also a separate room for teenagers to play records and dance with one another. I used to watch them from the other side of the swinging doors. I wondered if I would ever get old enough to dance in there when I got bigger. But by the time I became a teenager, Schucks no longer existed.

Oh, the fifties were a wonderful time for us baby boomers. We had almost total freedom. As long as we came home on time for dinner. And, of course, in the Summer, we were free to roam all over town or as far as we could go on our bicycles. I don’t remember my mother ever telling me not to eat all that candy. It’s a wonder that I had a tooth left in my mouth that didn’t have a cavity.

In fifth grade, I developed an abscessed tooth because of all the sweets I ate and the fact that I didn’t always brush my teeth very often. After my parents took me to the dentist, and he read the riot act to them after examining my decayed teeth. He didn’t yell at me, but he should have. But, as a result, my parents, mainly my mother, stood there twice a day and watched me brush my teeth. And from that time forward, I went to a dentist for a check-up once a year.

And although we all loved the Fall, we looked forward to the winter as well. Not only could we go ice skating on Strawbridge Lake, but we would also play in the snow for hours and hours, no matter how cold it was. We only went home if our gloves became too wet, and we had to put on different gloves and new socks to keep them from freezing in our wet boots. We would build igloos and snow men in all our yards. We would sled on the frozen sidewalks and snow until our hands and faces felt as if they were frozen.

Our childhood was a magical time for all of us. We had unlimited freedom. Not only that, it was a time of innocence when our parents didn’t worry about Stranger Danger. That didn’t happen until my children were born in the early 1980s, and we all became paranoid.

It was the last fall that I had experienced for a long time. I grew up in New Jersey and lived there until I was twenty-two. That is when I moved to Florida. Fall was my absolute favorite time of the year. The long, hot, and humid Summer was over. And I looked forward to the cooler weather. And, I so looked forward to the changing of leaves on the trees. Of course, moving to Florida meant no more wonderful fall weather and no more changing of the trees to fall’s beautiful orange and yellow colors.

When I was a child, I loved Summertime. The main reason was that I no longer had to attend school. I attended Catholic grade school at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight years in Maple Shade, NJ. Then, I attended St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy Catholic High School in Haddonfield, NJ. For four years, the last day of school was for the teachers and the students to celebrate.

Fall announced the beginning of the school year. I can not lie, and I did not enjoy grade school. I made many friends while I attended school, but the regiment was the “dear nuns.” I did not enjoy that at all. But, despite that Fall also meant I had to return to school, it also brought the cool weather and the turning of the trees’ leaves to all their magnificent colors. I absolutely loved it. I would ride all over town on my bike and often rode my bike to Strawbridge Lake. In the winter, my friends and I would ice skate on the frozen Lake. For the rest of the year, we would walk or ride our bikes to the lake and have picnics there. We would also watch the fishermen. We would walk across the waterfall, which was a No-No, but nonetheless, we would all dare each other to cross over to the other side. We would often spend the whole day there. My parents never asked where we were all day until we got home in time for lunch. They never had any idea what we were up to.

Fall is almost the perfect season because it has everything we want and needs to end happily and begin again. Embrace the change and embrace Fall! Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday is after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade. Fall also brought Halloween. My second favorite holiday, after Christmas. Not only did we go out Trick or Treating. We also participated in the Halloween parade in our costumes, up and down Main Street in Maple Shade.

To top that all off, we would go out trick or treating all over town. And we carried bags to put all the candy into each time we knocked at someone’s house and yelled, “Trick or Treat” at the top of our lungs. I went out with all my girlfriends and the neighborhood boys. And once our bags(pillowcases) were full, we would all return to our homes and dump the candy on the kitchen table. And then, we would go out again until we had filled the bags at least twice.

And let me tell you something: there was no one that had a bigger sweet tooth than me. In fact, I believe the whole Boomer Generation had sweet tooths. This was back in the days when stores sold penny candy, and if you had a quarter, you could get twenty-five pieces of candy. I kid you not. Our neighborhood candy store was called Schucks. The Schuck family owned it.

I would spend a day walking up and down Main Street, looking for a change that people had dropped. And sure enough, I always found some change. And no sooner did I see it than I would make my way to Schuck’s. Mrs. Schuck’s family owned the store. And it had a large candy counter with every kind of candy you could imagine. Mrs. Schuck knew all the names of the kids who lived in Maple Shade, where I grew up. She would patiently stand there while I would tell her what candy I wanted, and then she would put them all in a brown paper bag. And I would hand her all my change, which most often was pennies or, if I was lucky, nickels.

In addition to selling penny candy, Schucks had a luncheon counter and made milkshakes, sodas, and hoagies. There was also a separate room for teenagers to play records and dance with one another. I used to watch them from the other side of the swinging doors. I wondered if I would ever get old enough to dance in there when I got bigger. But by the time I became a teenager, Schucks no longer existed.

Oh, the fifties were a wonderful time for us baby boomers. We had almost total freedom as long as we came home on time for dinner. And, of course, in the Summer, we were free to roam all over town or as far as we could go on our bicycles. I remember my mother telling me not to eat all that candy. It’s a wonder that I had a tooth left in my mouth that didn’t have a cavity.

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LIFE AS I HAVE KNOW IT

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I have reached a point in my life when most of my years are behind me and few in front of me. As a result, I have begun reflecting on what I should do with my remaining years, barring unforeseen health issues or unexpected events like getting run over by a car.

I believe that I have lived an interesting life; I’m not famous or rich. However, I have lived my life based on setting certain behavior standards and meeting my goals. In addition, I have made decisions in my life that I felt would benefit my future in some way. Be it big or small. As I reflect on all the years I have lived and what I have accomplished over those years, I feel I have accomplished a great deal considering my background and the times that I grew up in from the early fifties through the 1970s to our present time.

I was born in the early 1950’s. I was part of the Baby Boomer Generation. We were preceded by the Silent Generation and followed by Generation X. I am not, nor will I ever be, either rich or famous. I have never set goals for myself that would enable me to become rich or famous. And that fact does not bother me in the least. I have met many people over my lifetime who have been wealthy, and some have been famous. They did not seem any more content with their lives than I did. I have to admit that, for the most part, I am proud of my accomplishments over the past 73 years, big or poor. I haven’t let fear get in my way. And that is saying a lot because I was a shy and quiet child who came from a large family.

But let me digress for a moment and give you some of my background. My sister and I were fraternal twins born in 1951. We had four older siblings. My oldest siblings were nineteen and twenty years older than us. My subsequent siblings, two sisters, were eight and seven years older than myself and my twin. They might as well have been lightyears ahead of us since there was a significant age gap when we were seven and starting grade school. 

I attended twelve years of Catholic School. My elementary school was less than a block from our childhood home, and the Catholic Church was a mere two houses away from where I grew up in Maple Shade, New Jersey. Going to twelve years of Catholic School had a profound effect on me. When I was attending grade school, we had St. Joseph nuns teaching us. It taught me self-control since not following the directions of the “dear” sisters often had painful consequences. And those consequences were often painful, physically and psychologically. Since the dear sisters were not beyond rapping our small and fragile hands with wooden rulers with metal edges on them, and if that didn’t work, you would be sent to the front of the classroom, where they would bang your head into the blackboard. And worse, they would demean and diminish you by telling you you were stupid.

To some extent, I understand why we were disciplined this way. That was because the classes were overcrowded due to the sheer number of kids in the class, which could be sixty or more. When I was in first grade, there were three first-grade classes because of the number of students entering first grade. My sister and I were required to stay after school and help clear up after the other students. I never questioned why we had to do it, but in retrospect, I suppose the school reduced the cost of the school tuition by having students do physical labor. I also had to go to the convent where the nuns lived on Saturdays and work. My job was cleaning the storage room where the nuns’ food supplies were stored. My sister had to iron the church vestments.

I have to admit I did not put too much effort into studying when I was going to elementary school. But, somehow, I did pass and move forward to Catholic High School. Anyone who wanted to attend Catholic High School had to take a test to get in. There were two Catholic Schools to choose from in our area. We had to take an entrance exam to be accepted into the Catholic High School. I passed both tests and was accepted at St. Mary of the Angels Academy, which was an all-girl School, and Holy Cross High School, where my two older sisters had attended. Somehow, I passed both of them. My parents decided that we would attend the Girl’s School. Because they wanted to keep us from intermingling with boys. I wasn’t particularly interested in boys at that time, so I didn’t care one way or the other. Boys at that time, so I didn’t care one way or the other.

And so my sister and I attended four years of all-girl school at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy. It was a college prep school, more challenging than a public high school or Holy Cross High School. My parent’s goal was to keep us away and safe from boys during our adolescence so we wouldn’t get pregnant. They were unaware of my lack of interest in boys at that time. Over time, in my late teens and early twenties, I eventually became interested in dating,

I had my first boyfriend when I was twenty-one, David Gatelein. It didn’t last long since we had little in common. He had recently been released from the military with some emotional or mental issues due to fighting in the Vietnam War that I wasn’t aware of for quite a while.

After about a year of dating him, he broke off with me. I was somewhat upset, but I got over it since I hadn’t fallen in love or made any real connection with him. And we had very little in common since the only thing he cared about was sailing and drinking beer. And I didn’t drink and. I didn’t even know how to swim. And that was the end of him.

Not long after that, my best friend invited me over to meet her boy cousin, who just exited the Navy Reserve. His immediate family lived in Florida. And he was visiting all his cousins before he returned home. We hit it off, and after he returned to his home in Florida, we began writing back and forth. Eventually, I decided that this was a person I wanted to be a part of my life. And eventually, we moved to Florida and found a job and an apartment, and after some time passed by, we decided to get married. During my vacation in Florida, I attended the Florida Beauty Academy and earned a license in hairdressing. I’m not sure why I decided to do that since I never had any desire to cut hair or style hair. But, I suppose I thought it would provide an income for us while he was going to school. And it did, over the years, provide additional income.

Of course, many things happened over those fifty years. After we were married, Bob decided he wanted to attend Brooks Institute in California. It was a school that taught photography. While he went to school, I worked full-time. My first job was selling hats and wigs at Robinson’s Department Store. And I there was a more boring job than that I can’t imagine what it would be. I worked there for a year until one of the girls that I met at Robinsons told me about a school for mentally handicapped children. She said they were looking for reliable women to work with the kids; she was volunteering there. She gave me a reference, and I called St. Vincent’s every day for two weeks until they agreed to interview me. Eventually, they did, and after filling out an application and being interviewed by several people, I was hired as a counselor. I worked there for two years. And I loved every minute of it. I can’t describe how much I came to love those kids. I took care of girls ages twelve to seventeen. And I came to love those kids like they were my own. 

After Bob graduated from Brooks Institute, we decided to move back to the New Jersey, Philadelphia area, where Bob thought he had a better chance to find employment. Unfortunately, there weren’t any photography opportunities at that time. He was employed at RCA in Princeton, NJ, as an electronic technician for two years. Until he was hired at GE, he was hired as an engineer lab supervisor for fifteen years.

We had two children, three years apart. And eventually moved from our house in Pennsauken, NJ, to a large home in Pitman, NJ. It had been empty for eight years and was in need of a new roof, new heater, and refrigerator and stove. We spent years updating and redecorating the house. It was 5.000 square feet and was three stories high with two large basements and a two-car garage. We painted the shutters for the fifty-five windows it had and had the house painted. I did all the gardening and took care of the house in general. Bob did all the heavy work. After approximately one year, I opened my own business called The Art Room, where I taught Art to children in the afternoon and adults in the evening. I used the three rooms that had been used by the doctor who lived in the house previous to us. We came to love our house. And we lived there for 24 years.

When we were getting close to retirement age, we realized that the real estate taxes increased every year because of the cost of keeping up this large home. And we knew we could not continue living in our house once we retired. So, with a heavy heart, we put our beautiful home up for sale. It took almost eight months to sell it since most people in the area could not afford such a large house or the taxes to live there. Eventually, a lawyer and his wife, a nurse, made an offer for our house, and we accepted it. They had several children, and the lawyer’s sister was also moving in with them. The house had four bedrooms. And offices, as I mentioned earlier. The day we packed up all our belongings and went to the settlement was one of the most challenging days of my life. I can not tell you how much I loved that home, but we could never retire if we stayed there. So, we went to the settlement, signed away our house, and headed toward the home we had purchased in North Carolina. We have been living here for almost nine years. We live in a quiet neighborhood where everyone keeps to themselves. I still miss all the friends that I had in Pitman, New Jersey. I miss our small town where our kids went to school, and I knew so many of the children and their parents who I came to know through The Art Room. Those were wonderful years with great friends and neighbors, and we were so lucky to have the opportunity to spend our middle years there. I have no regrets.

My husband, my younger daughter, and I live in a small development in Willow Spring with our two dogs, one cat, and ten birds. Oh, I forgot to mention how much I have always loved small children and animals.

Finally, I would like to say that I have had a blessed life and many good times. I have had my share of losses. My older sibling passed away, my beautiful oldest sister, Jeanie, who died of emphysema when she was forty-one, and my oldest sibling, my brother, Hugh, who was a psychologist who passed away five years ago. I am lucky to have still my sister, Eileen, my sister, Liz, and my fraternal twin, Karen, who all live in New Jersey. I also have many nieces and nephews and great-nieces and nephews.

I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary for the past nine years, caring for parrots, doves, and finches. Over two hundred animals reside there. The sanctuary is located in Coats, NC, on Live Oak Road. If you ever have the opportunity to visit, please do.

I do not know how much longer I will live in this world, but I do know that I plan to make the most of the time I have left. I will always love animals and continue to create art and gardens. Life is short, so make the most of it. Treat people the way you want to be treated. Live your life to the fullest. Try to find something that makes you happy each day. Life goes by so quickly.

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STICKY FINGERS

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As far back as I can remember, I had an uncontrollable impulse to steal. And I’m talking about when I was young, perhaps seven or eight years old. At first, it was nickels and dimes. If my mother, father, sisters, or brothers left their wallet or purse in sight, I would shove nickels, dimes, and quarters in my pockets. Then I would walk down to the 5+10 store and buy cheap toys, like puzzles, crayons, or barrettes for my hair. I didn’t buy them because I didn’t have any. It was because I wanted more. I never seemed to be satisfied with what I already had; I always wanted more and more. And that wasn’t just cheap toys; it also included going to the candy store and buying candy. I was just never satisfied. I always wanted more. I’m surprised that I have most of my teeth after all the candy I ate when I was six or up.

I used to walk up and down Main Street and search for coins or dollar bills that someone had carelessly dropped on the sidewalk. I almost always found some. If I didn’t see any coins on the sidewalk downtown, I would go to our church, go up and down the pews, and pick up all the loose change I found. And I never felt an ounce of guilt.

I also had other expenses that I had to consider. And going to the movies every Saturday afternoon was one of those. It was called the Roxy Theater, and almost every Saturday, there was a new movie. But, even if I had seen the film before, I would have gone to see it again. I just loved going to the movies. All the kids in our small town went to the Saturday Matinee. We would all bring our lunches, which always included a dessert. My mother made a different cake every Saturday. I can not tell you how much I loved my mother’s homemade cakes. They were so delicious. I would have been as big as a house if I wasn’t such an active kid. But I was very active; I roller skated, and I rode my bike from one town to another. I walked to Strawbridge Lake at least once a week when the weather was good. And it was a good three miles away from my hometown. And then, I was out playing with my friends every day until dark at night during the summer. And, of course, while I was riding or walking all over town, I looked for lost coins. I was more than willing to do chores for our neighbors if they paid me.  My father- 1960's

Once I could earn money, I stopped looking for lost money or someone else’s lost coins. And when the time came when I was old enough to babysit my nieces and nephews, I was paid for my time, and I didn’t resort to looking for lost coins on my mother’s change. What ultimately stopped me from looking for lost change and searching the church for coins happened when I was in the fifth grade, and I developed a toothache while in school. And it wasn’t just an ache that hurt once in a while; it was a god-awful abscess due to my constant candy addiction and not brushing my teeth every day. My mother told me to brush my teeth, but I rarely did.

As a result, one day, in the fourth grade, I developed a horrible toothache. In fact, it was an abscessed tooth; I failed to tell my mother or father about it because I was afraid of going to the dentist. However, this abscess was so painful that I started to cry in my classroom, and I told Sister Joseph Catherine, my teacher, that I had a horrible toothache. She didn’t believe me right away, but eventually, she decided I was telling the truth, and the school called my parents and told them that I needed to see a dentist. We only lived two houses from the school, so it was a short walk home. When I got home, I found that my mother and father had contacted a dentist in Philadelphia, and they had made an appointment for me that day. And off we went to the dentist. Well, it turned out that that m tooth was abscessed and had to be pulled. My parents were distraught. They blamed themselves. But it was my fault for eating all the sweets and not brushing my teeth. I was a very stubborn kid. And didn’t always do what I was told or what was good for me. I was quiet for the most part, and I don’t think my parents realized how stubborn and mule-headed I was.

So, we were off to the dentist, who informed my parents that not only did I have an abscessed tooth, but many of my teeth had cavities. And I need a lot of work done. My parents were informed that they needed to observe me brushing my teeth three times daily and cut out all the candy and cakes I ate. And suggested that fruit would be a better snack for me. And I needed to brush my teeth three times a day and go to the dentist at least once a year.

Mom, sitting at the kitchen table,

After that, my mother would come into the bathroom with me after every meal and observe me brush my teeth. Both of my parents had dentures, and they didn’t want me to end up the way they did without teeth. When they were kids, they did not have the opportunity to go to the dentist. My father grew up in an orphanage called “Gerard College.” Where boys with no living fathers grew up, my mother was the youngest of many siblings, and there was no money to pay a dentist. It was a challenge to feed all the members of her family. My mother was born in 1910. My father was born in 1911. his father had passed away, and his mother had to work, so she put him in “Gerard College, and he didn’t leave until he was age. He only saw his mother once a year. He had a difficult and lovely childhood. My father became a bus driver, and my mother met him when she took the bus, and he was the driver.  They proceeded to have six children, and two that didn’t survive. They were married in 1929.

My parents did not have an easy life or marriage. My mother was one of the kindest people I ever knew, and my father cared in his own way, although he could be difficult. I loved my parents deeply and couldn’t imagine having any other parents. And the only regret I ever had was that my parents didn’t live longer lives. My father died in 1986 from lung cancer, he was a long-time smoker, My mother died one year later, from congestive heart failure, I believe her heart broke when my father passed away. They didn’t have a perfect life, but they did the best they could. They died almost forty years ago, and I still miss them to this day. I would give anything to see them one more time. I do not know if there is heaven, but I hope there is one because I would love to see my dear mother and dad again. Even if it was for just a minute. I feel I was blessed with the parents I had and the life they gave me. They worked hard every day and were a blessing to me. And there isn’t a day when I don’t miss them. As for my sticky fingers, once I stopped eating candy and sweets, I no longer had the sticky fingers, and to this day. And I made it a practice to work hard, earn my own money, and never take anything that wasn’t mine. The fact is, I found that working hard and paying my way in life had been bigger blessings than any amount of money or sweets I had ever eaten. And I have to say that my parents were the best example of hard-working and honest people. And I believe they would be proud of my accomplishments if they were still living, including attending Temple University when I was thirty-six and graduating at the top of my class at forty-one years old with two degrees.

My husband, Bob, and myself with my two adult children when we lived in Pitman, NJ

I have been married for fifty years and raised two intelligent and gifted children. I went to college when I was thirty-six and graduated with two degrees and teaching credentials when I was forty-one,. I started my own” The Art Room” business and taught art to children and adults for many years.  Here I am, retired and living in North Carolina. I am far from the shy girl I was as a child, and I do not let anything or anyone stand in the way of the things I want to accomplish. I don’t know how much longer I will be in this life, but I promise you this: I will always do my best, work as hard as I can, and accomplish every challenge that comes my way.

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