Monthly Archives: December 2022

ROSE COLORED GLASSES

1 Reply

When I was a little girl, about ten years old, my mother often said I had the ability to look at the world through rose-colored glasses. I couldn’t understand why she kept saying this to me since I didn’t even wear glasses. She usually said it while I was regaling my family with a story about something that happened to me while I was outside playing.

My father often says, “Sally, you have quite the imagination, don’t let it run away with you.” And then my sisters laugh and laugh. I was fairly certain that they weren’t laughing because they enjoyed my story. I think they’re making fun of me. It never fails to make me get mad, and I stamp off in the middle of dinner. And then one of my older sisters would say,” there she goes again.” As a result, I rarely finished dinner or ate dessert.

Amulet

And then, one night, I was late getting home for dinner because while I was taking a walk downtown on Main Street. I saw an old woman crossing the street, and just as she was stepping up on the curb, she started to trip. I ran across the street as fast as I could. And I caught her just as she was about to fall on the sidewalk and hit her head. The old lady took one look at me and smiled. When she smiled, her whole face lit up, and her eyes twinkled. “Oh, thank you so much you saved my life. I could have broken my neck. You are a hero.”

I said, “that’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. Thank you. But I’m not a hero. I was across the street, and I saw that you were about to trip and fall. So I ran over here to catch you so you wouldn’t get hurt. Anyone would have done the same thing.”

“No, I assure you, not everyone goes out of their way to help people. You have a good heart. And not everyone can say that. I want to give you a little gift. Would you like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. My mother told me that I shouldn’t take anything from strangers.”

“What’s your name, dear?”

“My name is Sally.”

“Well, Sally, I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind making this one exception.”

“Really, do you think so?”

“Yes, yes, I do. Close your eyes and hold your breath while you count to sixty.”

And that is exactly what I did. I could feel the old lady putting a chain around my neck. And it had something heavy hanging on it. I couldn’t wait to open my eyes.

“Alright, Sally, open your eyes. I’m giving you a neckless, and there’s an amulet hanging off of it that’s filled with Magic Stardust. You have to wear the necklace all the time for the necklace to work. It will allow you to see the good in people and the good in the world. This amulet only has the power to strengthen whatever is the person’s best quality.

And I can feel that you have a big heart Sally that cares for people. You see the good, and you will grow up to be a kind and decent person. And this amulet will protect your kind and good heart. And it will not let the world change who you are meant to be. The world can do that sometimes, and it can change people from who they are meant to become.”

I look down at my chest, and I see a beautiful silver star. And there’s a glass circle in the middle of the star. It’s twinkling with glimmers of light. I pick it up in my hand and say, “oh, my gosh, this is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Are you sure I can keep this?”

And when I look up, she isn’t standing there anymore. I look to the right, and the left, and across the street, and I don’t see her anywhere. I look down at my chest, and the necklace is still there. I put the amulet under my shirt. I don’t know how I’m going to tell my family about this. I know they aren’t going to believe me. They never do. I decided that it would be better if I didn’t tell them about the amulet. It will be my little secret.

That night as we are sitting at the dinner table, my oldest sister Kathleen says, “so Sally, what were you up to today?  Did anything interesting happen? Did any of the animals in the neighborhood talk to you? How about the trees? Did they have anything to say for themselves?”

If looks could kill, Kathleen would be lying on the floor at that moment. I said, “no.”

“What, nothing interesting happened? Come on, you can tell us.”

“No,”

“So, are you saying nothing interesting happened, or you aren’t going to tell us what happened?”

“No, I’m never telling any of you anything again.”

My mother says, “are you happy now, Kathleen? You can never let her be, can you? She’s just a child with a big imagination, and that’s all. Stop picking on her. Or I’m going to make you regret it. Last warning, Kathleen.”

“Oh, I was just joking. Sally just can’t take a joke.”

“That’s enough, Kathleen. Why don’t you go up to your room and think about your behavior? I’ve heard enough out of you, and you’re always causing issues at the dinner table. Sally never finishes her dinner. She eats like a bird.”

“Yeah, a vulture.”

“OK, Kathleen, go upstairs. Don’t come down until we’re finished eating, and you can wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen. See if you think that’s so funny. I’m finished tolerating your infantile behavior. You’re almost eighteen. You should know better.”

“Jeez, Mom, I was just kidding. Can’t she take a joke?”

“Go upstairs, Kathleen, not another word.”

I can’t believe my mother actually stood up for me. I look over at her, and she has her head down. And doesn’t say a word to me. Kathleen is busy stamping up the stairs to her room. I kind of feel sorry for her.

I don’t say anything during dinner, and after I take my dishes over to the sink, I say, “I’m going upstairs to finish my book.” When I get upstairs, I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror. I pull the pendant out from under my shirt and look at it in the mirror. It’s so beautiful. It looks like the stardust is moving around in the circle in the middle of the pendant. It looks brighter. I know I have to be very careful and not let anyone see it. Plus, I can’t ever take it off. So, it has to be my secret, always.

The next morning when I come down for breakfast, I make toast with peanut butter and jelly and a banana. And then I have a glass of cold milk. I know I shouldn’t drink cold milk in the morning because I always feel sick to my stomach afterward. But I really like milk, especially chocolate milk. I’m about to drink the milk when my sister Kathleen comes into the room. I don’t look at her. I stare down at my milk.

“Sally, I’m sorry I was picking on you last night. I don’t know why I do it. I should know better because Carol and Jean always tortured me because I was the youngest. And I guess when you came along, I thought it was my turn to be able to pick on somebody instead of the one that always got made fun of all the time. But what I should have been doing all this time is treating you with kindness and understanding because I knew how horrible it was to be picked on all the time. I promise I’ll do better.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. No one, I mean absolutely no one, had ever apologized to me when they made me feel bad by making fun of me or calling me stupid. I feel a tear run down my cheek, followed by another and another. That’s when Kathleen came over and gave me a hug. I hug her back. It was the first time any of my sisters were affectionate to me. Then she says let’s start over, OK?”

I nod my head because, by now, I’m crying so hard I can’t talk. Even though this is the happiest moment of my life up until now. I go into the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. And then I fold the washcloth and press it over my closed eyes. Because they’re all red from crying. When I take it off, my eyes don’t look any better. But I feel better all the same. I brush my teeth and comb my hair and go downstairs and grab my school bag and lunchbox.

As I‘m heading out the door, I yell, “bye, mom, I’m going to school now. I’ll see you later. I hear my mother say, “wait a minute, Sally I have something for you. And then she comes to the front door and says, “I made a special snack for you, Peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips in them. I know how much you love them.”

I smile at my mother and open my lunch box so she can put the cookies in there. She places them carefully into my Peter Pan lunch box. And then she says,” I want to give you a big hug and kiss. So, you know how much I love you, Sally. You’re such a kind little girl. I’m proud of you.”

And that is when my eyes start watering again. I wipe away the tears and say, “I love you too, Mommy.”  As I walk down the street towards the school, I stop for a moment and put my school bag down. And I take the amulet from under my shirt and stare at it. It is twinkling again. I don’t know if the amulet holds special powers. But I do know that something magical has happened to me. But just in case, I’m going to keep wearing this amulet for the rest of my life.

And I know that if you don’t believe, the magic will never happen. And I look up at the sky, but I can’t see the stars because of the bright sunshine. And then I hold my amulet again, and I give it a little squeeze, and I feel it getting warm, and my hand starts tingling a little. I put it back under my shirt. And then I continue on to school.

All of a sudden, I hear someone yelling, “Hey, Sally, wait up. I want to talk to you. I turn around, and it’s none other than Beth O’Hearn. I slowed down, and Beth caught up with me and says “Hey, thanks for waiting for me. “Hi Sally, I was thinking about you this morning, and I was wondering if you would like to join the writing club. I always hear you telling people interesting stories. And so, I thought you would be perfect. What do you think? The name of the club is Dream Weavers.

“Really? I would love to join the club.”

“That’s great, Sally. Our next meeting is tomorrow after school in the back of the school library”

“That’s great. I’ll be there.”

This was turning out to be the best day of my life. I put my hand to my chest and could feel the amulet. And I walk through the school doors with a smile on my face for the first time in my life. As I’m walking down the hallway, I see two boys shoving someone back and forth in the hallway. They are calling her a name and laughing at her. I run up to where they’re at. And I see the girl they are shoving around is Elizabeth Hess.

“Hey, leave her alone I scream at the top of my lungs.” Mind your own business, Sally. What do you care about, Burned Betty?’ That is when I punch Charlie right in the stomach as hard as I can. Don’t you dare call her that? You’re nothing but a bully. You’re a horrible person. You better leave, or I’m going to go up to the principal’s office and tell them what you two were doing.”

Charlie said, “whatever.” But then the two of them took off. Elizabeth has been in my class since first grade. In the third grade, Elizabeth’s house caught on fire, and she was burned all over including her face. She has angry red scars. Everyone either makes fun of her or tortures her. Elizabeth has been made fun of or ignored for so long she doesn’t even cry anymore. She didn’t say anything to me. She just stood there. “Elizabeth, I was thinking that we have an empty seat at my lunch table now that Douglas Badger moved away. How would you like to sit with us?  She stared at me for a minute, and then and then she nodded without saying a word. I take her hand and say,” Come on, let’s go put our stuff in the classroom, and then we can go outside in the play yard until the bell rings. What do you say?”

She nodded her head again and quietly said, “Yes.”

As we walk down the hallway towards the classroom, I think about Elizabeth, and I wonder why I haven’t made friends with her before. I feel bad because I know what it feels like when people make fun of you and call you names. And you feel powerless to stop them. You start thinking you deserve it or something. But I know that isn’t true. Nobody deserves to be made fun of or ignored because of the way they look, where they live, or anything else. I think I might have been afraid to make friends with her because I thought people might start making fun of me too.

We put our stuff in the classroom, and then I say, “come on, let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” She stands there. “Come on, and you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I take her hand and start walking toward the door, and then we walk down the hall and out the door to the play yard. “I promise it will be alright, Elizabeth.”  I walk over to a group of my friends, and Elizabeth stands next to me. “Hi, everyone. Elizabeth is going to join us, isn’t that great? Everyone looks at me and then at Elizabeth. They all say, “yeah, that’s great. Hi, Elizabeth. I look at her, and she has the beginnings of a smile on her face.

I let go of Elizabeth’s hand and smiled at her. “Hey, guess what? Beth asked me to join the writing club. The first meeting is tomorrow after school in the library.”

My friend Helen looks at me and says, Lucky. You are really good at telling stories, Sally. That sounds fun. I wish I had your imagination. Elizabeth suddenly says, “ I like to write stories about animals. We have lots of pets. We have three dogs, four cats, and a parrot that can talk.”

“You do? Says Helen. The parrot can really talk like a person?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth says. He can say a lot of stuff. He repeats anything someone says near him.”

“Wow, Elizabeth, that is cool. I would love to meet him.”

“You would? Well, you can come to my house after school and meet him anytime.”

And then all the girls start saying,” Me too, me too.”

I looked over at Elizabeth, and her face was transformed by the big smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes. I had never noticed what beautiful green eyes she had before. “How about on Friday after school Elizabeth? Do you think that would be alright with your mom?”

“Yes, but just in case, I’ll ask her today after school.”

Just then, the bell rings, and it’s time for us to go in. Everyone was laughing at Peter because he was making weird faces for some reason. And then we all filed into the building. As I was walking through the door, I put my hand over my chest, and I could feel how warm the amulet was getting. I felt so happy for Elizabeth making friends with everyone. And you know what? You can never have enough friends. I knew today was going to be the beginning of a whole new chapter of my life.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

My Guardian Angel

1 Reply

I grew up in Maple Shade, New Jersey. Our house was located two doors down from the Catholic Church. I attended Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School. Maple Shade is a working-class town, which is located an hours drive from Philadelphia, Pa. The elementary school is right next door to the church. So, we were within shouting distance from the school and the church. Needless to say, going to Catholic School for twelve years had a profound and long-lasting effect on me as I was growing up.

The high school I attended was Saint Mary of the Angels Academy. It’s an all-girls college prep school. It was located in Haddonfield, New Jersey, which is a town that, for the most part, was inhabited by wealthy families. 

St. Joseph nuns taught me all through grade school except for third grade when I had a lay teacher Miss Norris, and the fifth grade when I had Mr. Mc Elliot. He was the only male teacher I had through twelve years of school. The St. Joseph sisters had a reputation as being strict. And not adverse to using physical punishment if you got out of line or disobeyed their instructions. I had my head knocked against the blackboard more than once. And my hand whacked with a ruler that had a sharp metal edge. Most often, I was caught whispering to one of my friends.

For the most part, I was a quiet child and kept out of trouble. But, occasionally, my mischievous nature would get the best of me, and I would act out. For instance, we had to attend Mass on Sunday at nine o’clock, and all the students sat in the same seats every Sunday.

I thought it was funny to get my girlfriends to start laughing about halfway through Mass which usually lasted about an hour. One Sunday, there happened to be an older woman sitting in front of me, and she had a coat hanger sticking out of her winter coat on the back of her neck. And every time she had to sit down, the hook of the hanger would poke her in the back of her neck. It was just out of reach of her hand, and so she was tortured by the hanger poking her for well over an hour. I thought this was hilarious, and so I pointed at the lady to all my friends sitting next to me in the aisle. And we would all laugh every time the hanger mauled her. We tried to keep the laughter down to a low roar, but we weren’t always successful.

Soon Sister St. Joseph would come sweeping down the aisle to admonish me with her giant rosery that would swing back and forth from her waist to admonish me. And she would warn us that if we better quiet down. And we would someday be punished for our sins. Hell, was the place she assured us would be the place we would end up in for all eternity.

I always felt this was a somewhat extreme punishment for children. And besides, it was a well-known fact taught to us by these self-same St. Joseph nuns that we all had a guardian angel assigned to us after we were baptized. And the guardian angel would protect us for all time. He would be sitting over our right shoulders. And it was his job to protect us from the slings and arrows that life threw at us, and that included Sister Saint Joseph and the threat of eternal fires of hell.

At the time I reached the eighth grade, my class was informed that we would have to take entrance exams if we wanted to continue with our Catholic education. There were two Catholic High Schools in the area. Holy Cross High School and St. Mary of the Angels Academy, an all-girl high school.

After we took the entrance exams, I was flabbergasted to find out that I not had not only passed the entrance exam but did quite well. I was sure that I had failed them. Since almost on a daily basis, one of the dear nuns would inform me of how stupid I was. It took many years for me to overcome my self-doubt regarding my intelligence and start to believe in myself and my intelligence, and rebuild my self-confidence.

Outside of the classroom and when I was on my own or with my friends, I felt confident in myself. It didn’t really occur to me that there was anything I couldn’t do. Even though it wasn’t true, I would often take chances and do things that were unsafe. During the summer, I wanted to go swimming. But the fact was I had never been in a pool or lake where the water was over my head. No one had ever taught me to swim. And yet, when our neighbors down the street had a built-in swimming pool installed. And I was determined that I was going to go swimming in that pool.

The Pheiffers were the only family that had a pool, and I was certain that they were rich beyond my wildest dreams. Of course, that wasn’t true. They were working-class people, the same as my parents. They just had fewer kids in their families. I would often walk down the street and knock at their door. And ask if I could go swimming. I guess I made somewhat of a pest, and eventually, they gave in. And they invited my best friend and me to go swimming in their pool on one of the hottest summer days. I was wearing one of my sister’s hand-me-down swimming suits that were a size too big for me. But that didn’t stop me from going swimming. And the fact that I had no clue how to swim didn’t dissuade me in the least. Mrs. Pheiffer informed me that I should not go into the pool by myself because she didn’t want anything untoward to happen to me or any of the other neighborhood kids.

And so, on that beautiful summer day, I walked down to the deep end of the swimming pool, counted to ten, and jumped in a while, holding my nose into water that was over six feet deep. The water wasn’t heated. And it was a shock when I hit the cold water and sank like a rock to the bottom, which was well over my head. I had no clue what to do. But it was clear to me that I was going to drown. I began flailing my arms and legs, trying to propel my head and shoulders out of the water. I was swallowing the water and gasping for air at the same time.

I started praying for my guardian angel to come and rescue me. I couldn’t imagine what he was waiting for. It was clear I wasn’t going to last much longer. So, I opened up my eyes, and I saw one of the other bigger kids nearby. It looked like Denny Pheiffer. He was several years older than me. And quite a bit bigger. When he got closer to me, I propelled myself toward him with whatever remaining strength I had left. And low and behold, I got close enough to him to grab hold of him around his stomach. He tried to push me off since I was pulling him down. But he soon realized that I wasn’t going to let go of him. And he started swimming toward the side of the pool that was a few feet away.

And after what seemed like an eternity, Denny managed to get the two of us to safety with no help from me. But, I got plenty of help from my guardian angel, who I had been praying two the whole time. It seemed like a lifetime but probably was only a few minutes. I grabbed ahold of the side of the pool, and Denny swam away. I started crying, and Denny’s older brother Joey was yelling for his mother to come outside. Mrs. Pheiffer demanded to know what had happened, and Denny said, “she grabbed ahold of me at the deep end and pulled us both under the water. She almost drowned us both.”

Mrs. Pheiffer said, “are you alright, Susie?”

“Yes, I am. My guardian angel saved me.”

And then Denny just snorted at me and said,” Oh yeah, right. So, how come you were hanging on me and almost drowned us both?”

“She saved us both. And I folded my arms in front of me, which is what I did when I had no desire to discuss something further. In other words, I was done talking. You could believe me or not.”

Mrs. Pheiffer said, “alright, I think it is a good time for all of you to go home. And Susie, you need to learn how to swim before you go into the deep end again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” And I grabbed my towel and headed home and headed for my house, which was at the other end of the street, two houses down from Our Lady of Perpetual Help church. I decided that after I got changed, I was going to go up to the church and say a few prayers to thank my guardian angel for saving my life.

And that night, before I went to sleep, I said a prayer to my guardian angel. Angel of God, my guardian dear, To whom God’s love commits me here, Ever this day, be at my side, To light and guard, Rule and guide.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

Leave a reply

Christmas time is here again. At my age, it seems difficult to summon up the Christmas spirit.

Maple Shade, NJ Christmas 1960’s

But when I was a child, it was a different story. I remember the days leading up to Christmas seemed to go by at a snail’s pace. I would ask my mother every day, “how many more days until Christmas, Mom?

She answered, “one less than when you asked me yesterday. Now, why don’t you go find something to do and keep yourself busy.”

I know if I kept bugging her, she would find something for me to do. “Ok, Mom, I think I’ll take a walk. I’ll be back in a little while.”

I decide to walk downtown and look in the windows of the stores. We live in a little town in Southern New Jersey called Maple Shade. And all the stores are decorated for Christmas. We even have a Christmas parade. And Santa Clause takes a ride all over town in the fire truck. And he throws candy to all the kids that are lined up on the sidewalks. All my friends and I walked down the pike on Main Street to see it yesterday. We had such fun. It was really cold outside, so we all had our winter coats on and hats and gloves and snow boots. Because the day before yesterday, we got over a foot of snow.

As I walked down the street, I noticed that the repair shop had a TV in the window, and it was playing It’s A Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart. I’ve seen this story before, but all the same, I stand there and watch it for quite a while. I can’t hear the sound, of course, but I know most of the dialogue anyway since I’ve seen it so many times. I decide to walk down to the Five & Dime Store to look at all the cool toys in the window. I ask Santa for a Barbie doll. I hope I get one.

The Christmas Lights along Main Street are beautiful. Of course, they look better when it’s dark out. The volunteer firemen drove up and down Main Street in their Fire Trucks and put up the lights and the Christmas Wreaths with big red bows on them the week before Thanksgiving. I watched them. The Rexall Drug Store is next to the Five & Dime Store. They have a display with a train set riding around on the train tracks with little houses and churches and trees and tiny little people walking around. There is even a little dog in the front yard of one of the little houses. At least, I think it’s a dog, but it’s hard to tell because it is so little. Above the houses, Santa is flying through the air with his reindeer, including Rudolph with his red nose. There’s a little stream of smoke coming out of the smokestack of the train engine. I wish we had one of those going around our tree.

I walk down to the bakery and look in their window. There are so many delicious-looking cakes in the window. My stomach starts growling really loud. My mother says I have a sweet tooth. I’m not sure what that means. But I really do love candy and cake. I hope I get some candy canes in my Christmas stocking and some chocolate kisses with red and green foil wrapped around them. Oh, how I would love to have an éclair too. My mother is making a cake for Christmas. She is a really good baker. I hope she makes a vanilla cake with shredded coconut on it. I really do love coconut. Oh, I almost forgot that every Christmas, my mother makes a giant tin of Christmas cookies. She puts the cookie dough in a cookie press and squeezes out these cookies in all kinds of shapes, and puts different colored sprinkles on them. I always find where she hides the cookie tin in the cellar, and I eat a whole bunch of them before Christmas gets here.

As I’m walking down Main Street, I see a police car coming in my direction. The car pulls over, and I hear the policeman calling out my name and saying, “Merry Christmas, Susie.”

I walk over to the curb, and I see it is Mr. Lombardi, our next-door neighbor. He is a policeman in our town. “Merry Christmas, Officer Lombardi,” I scream at the top of my voice. And then he waves again and drives away.

I continue walking down the street, and I see a couple of kids from school. I hear them yelling, “hey Susie do you want to go and play behind the church?”

“Sure,” I say. When I caught up to them, I saw it was my friend Helen and Ann Marie.

“What were you up to, Susie?”

“Nothing, just walking downtown and looking in all the store windows. What do you guys want to do?’

“We were just going behind the church and seeing who is playing in the snow out there. Are you getting anything good for Christmas, Susie?”

“I don’t know what I’ll get, but I asked for a Barbie doll and some art supplies. How about you guys? What did you ask for Christmas?”

“I ask for two games, Operation and Twister. I love games, said Ann Marie. “

“I ask for an Easy-Bake oven. said Helen.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

We rounded the corner at Main Street and Fellowship Road, and I said, “let’s have a race to the pump house behind the church. Ready, set, go.”

And we all ran as fast as we could. And at the last minute, I slipped on an icy spot and fell flat on my back. Ann Marie and Helen ran up to me and said all at once,” are you alright?”

“Yes.” I manage to say, even though the wind really got knocked out of me.

“Ok, then I bet I can beat you to the pump house Helen yells.” And before I even got up from the icy sidewalk, they were running at top speed to the pump house. I scramble up and start running as fast as I can. I was just about to catch up with them when I heard them yelling, “we beat you; we beat you.”

All the same, I kept running, and before you knew it, I was scrambling up the side of the pump tower to the top along with them. There were a whole lot of kids from Our Lady of Perpetual Help school there and some of the public-school kids too. And they were climbing up hills of snow and sledding across the parking lot. We laughed hard, and the air was so cold I could hardly breathe. I don’t know how long I stayed out there. But I know by the time I heard my mother yelling, “Susie, it’s time to come home. It was starting to get dark outside. What a day it was, what a day!

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Millie’s Bench

Leave a reply

Millie anxiously pushes her cart toward the park. The gates will be opening in a few minutes. She’s always afraid someone will claim her bench before she gets there.  No one ever has. She’s been coming to Fairmount Park for many years. She thinks of it as her home.

Well, if the truth is told, she doesn’t have a home anymore. She has been homeless since she lost her mother, her job, and her childhood home. She did live in her car for over a year until it stopped working. Millie parked it on the street, and after a month, it was towed away. It’s hard to believe, but that was over thirty years ago.

But Millie survives. It’s difficult not to sleep in the same place for more than a few days. She knows her way around the city. She knows every nook and cranny. She knows where it’s safe and where the police will leave you alone as long as you don’t cause any trouble, as long as you don’t act too crazy or smell too bad.

It’s impossible to stay clean when you live on the street. Few places have open bathrooms during the day. She would go in when it wasn’t too busy. And clean her face and all the places people can see and some of the ones they can’t. But would start smelling after a while.

Several times a year, she would go to one of the shelters for a couple of days just so she could take a shower, wash her hair and sleep in a clean bed. The shelters aren’t safe. People will steal the fillings out of your teeth if you aren’t careful. You can’t trust anyone, especially the ones who act like they’re your friends.

She tries not to call attention to herself in any way. She tries her best to be invisible. Millie gets a small check from the government. It’s delivered to a postal box. There’s a guy she knows who will cash the checks for a small fee. She’s cautious with her money and never wastes anything.

She knows where to get free food when she runs out of food stamps. Sometimes it’s a soup kitchen. Millie knows when the restaurants put leftovers in the dumpsters. It’s a crime how much food is wasted.

She keeps all her worldly belongings in her cart. She never goes anywhere without it. She brings the memories of her past with her wherever she goes. In that cart are the remnants of the life and person she used to be before she became invisible.

Oh, the gates are opening. Millie nods her head at the guard and heads toward her bench. Good, no one is there. Millie spends her day here, from first thing in the morning until they lock the gates at night.

This is her life now. She imagines nothing, nothing beyond sitting on this bench every day for the rest of her life. One day someone will find her still body. But Millie’s soul will have finally soared away, or perhaps just slipped away into oblivion. Who knows, Millie doesn’t.

She moves her cart next to the bench and looks at her belongings and sighs. But then she sits down, takes a deep breath, and looks all around. She feels blessed, that’s right blessed, lucky to spend all her waking hours here in this beautiful and serene place.

Spring is her favorite time in the park, breathing in the fragrance of the flowering trees and the Lilac bushes. The perfume wafts through the air, surrounding her, and lifting her spirit with it.

She watches young mothers with their babies and toddlers running around the fountain. She watches the children grow up and become adults bringing their babies to the park. It’s in this way she still feels connected to the life that goes on around her. Although she doesn’t participate in the pageantry of life, she observes it and remembers it.

She feels as if she plays the most essential part of all. She is the witness to everything beautiful and everything that isn’t. She’s a historian that stands outside and looks in on everything that goes on and makes a note of it.

Where would the world be without the keepers of the history of the world? Why it would be forgotten, unnoticed. It gives her life meaning and purpose, and value. Yes, she is invisible to those around her, but she is essential, just as the air is invisible, but nothing would survive without it.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

ALL I EVER DREAMED OF IS A GOOD NIGHT’S REST

1 Reply

The alarm clock rang incessantly, and its annoying screams eventually awakened me. I’m a heavy sleeper because each night before I go to bed, I drink a glass of wine. It never fails to put me to sleep. Unfortunately, it hasn’t put an end to my nightmares. In fact, they are even more vivid than the nightmares I suffered from when I was a child. The only difference is now I can remember the dreams after I wake up. And when I was a child, my dreams would be forgotten once I woke up each morning.

My dreams are often vivid and filled with events that wake me up, sometimes screaming out loud in terror. When I woke up, I could not remember what the nightmare was about. And I thank god for that because if I remembered any of my dreams, no amount of alcohol before I went to bed would be able to lull me to sleep ever again.

Tired woman in the office sleeping

 

My nightmares have been haunting me all of my life as far back as I remember. When I was a child, my mother took me to the pediatrician and explained how these nightmares would wake me up every night and wake up everyone who lived in our house. He told my mother that I had night terrors, which were a common occurrence with young children whose brains were still developing. And over time, the nightmares would cease. But mine never did. It is an everyday occurrence for me.

I never tell people I know I suffer from nightmares because I’m a grown woman. And I’m sure they would tell me that I’m not a child anymore and shouldn’t be having these nightmares anymore. As a result, during the day, I often have vivid flashbacks from my most recent nightmares without any warning.

Occasionally the flashback is so vivid that I will shout out with fear or run screaming out of whatever room. This has happened so often at my workplace that my coworkers started complaining to our boss that I was disrupting their concentration. I was called into his office because of these complaints. I explained the problem to my boss. I told him that I was unaware of my behavior when it was occurring since I was asleep. And the night terror only lasts a minute or two. And there was no treatment for it. I informed him I had been to a sleep specialist, psychologist, and psychiatrist. They all said there was no real cure. That they could put me on heavy-duty sleep aides. But the side effect was that in the morning, when I woke up, I had a hangover from the medication for several hours and had difficulty concentrating. I have lost several jobs because of this problem.

Most recently, my boss said that he could only think of two solutions. The first was letting me go, which he didn’t want to do because, aside from these sleep episodes, I was a valuable employee. So, his only recourse was for me to work at home. And then to come into my office once a week and play catch-up with my boss. And he thought that was the best solution for me and my fellow employees.

My response was to stare blankly at my boss. I really didn’t want to spend my whole work life at home working at my desk in my bedroom. I was sure this would lead me to develop even more problems, including loneliness, and becoming even more inhibited and neurotic than I already was.

My boss waited several moments, and then he said, “so Amelia, what do you think? Work from home sound good?”

“Well, I don’t know. But I guess I will have to give it a go. I will miss seeing all my workmates. But I guess I don’t really have any other choice. When will this change in venue happen?”

“Well, there is no time like the present. Why don’t you go in and start packing up your desk? Please take your work computer and anything else you need home with you. And let’s say that after you get settled in your new home office, you contact personnel and let them know how things are going. And if you need anything else. Let’s try this for the next month, and then you can let us know how you are doing. And we will see if we have to make any further adjustments.

And then he stood up and walked me to the door, and said, “please keep in touch. Let me know if you encounter any problem that we haven’t foreseen. And let me know, and we will put our brains together and devise a solution. Talk to you soon, Amelia. Sorry, but I have to go right now. There is a big meeting that I’m about to be late for if I don’t get moving immediately.”

And that was the beginning of the end for me. Of course, it didn’t happen right away. It happened slowly over time. In fact, it happened so painfully slowly that I didn’t realize what was happening. I slowly began to unravel.

After about a week of working alone at my desk in my bedroom, I began to lose time. And by that, I mean while I was working on my computer, I would drift slowly into a deep sleep. But, somehow, during these short naps, I kept working away. But, when I woke up, I had no memory of the work I had done. None at all. I would look down at my computer and not recollect completing the work. I would then spend the rest of the day going over all the work to see if it was complete bologna or acceptable.

And to my surprise, the work I completed at home was perfection. Even better than the work I did when I worked in the office. I was doing so well, in fact, that I decided that each afternoon I would take a break and go for a walk, go out to lunch, or do some shopping so that I could reconnect with my fellow human and not turn into some hermit.

But to my utter surprise, the first time I went out for lunch to one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, the owner came over to my booth and said, “oh, what a wonderful surprise. It’s such a pleasure to see you so soon again.”

I stared at him and said, “so soon again, Jose?” I don’t even remember the last time I was here. Maybe you are mixing me up with one of your other customers?”

“Mixing you up? No, for the past three weeks, you have come here every Monday and Thursday for lunch, and now here you are on Wednesday.”

“What? Well, I must be overtired or something. I don’t really recall that at all. I recently started working from home and haven’t been going out. And I started feeling claustrophobic from being alone all day and all night.”

Jose stared at me with a perplexed look on his face. And then he said, “wait a minute, I can prove it. I’ll show you a picture of you and several other customers when you pulled all your tables together and ate lunch. And then you all started dancing after eating. You have to remember that, Amelia?”

I sat there looking at him like he had lost his mind. And then he returned with a large picture of a group of people laughing and dancing in the middle of the room with all the tables pushed against the wall. And then Jose’ pointed his finger at a woman wearing a bright skirt and a flowered shirt and a sombrero on her head. I picked up the picture and put it as close to her eyes as possible and still distinguish the people. And sure enough, there was a woman that bore an unbelievable resemblance to herself. “Well, I’ll admit she does look like me. But it can’t be. It just can’t. I don’t remember that at all.”

Jose’ said, wait a minute, I’ll bring over the staff, and they can reassure you.”

“What, on no, don’t do that. But, before I even finished his sentence, Jose called all the staff into the dining area. And they all reassured her that she had indeed been coming there often, and on that particular night, she had been the life of the party.

“I guess I will have to believe you. But, I don’t really understand why I don’t have any memory of any of this at all.” Jose came over and said, “ well, I hope you will keep coming as often as possible because we will all miss you if you don’t. And he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

My face blushed all the way up to the roots of my hair. And then, I sat back in her chair and waited for my lunch to be brought out. By now, her stomach was growling and churning. A few minutes later, Jose’ brought her lunch to her table and said, “enjoy. Please let me know if you would like anything else. How about some Sangria?”

“I would love that, but I think I am confused enough as it is. Maybe next time. It all looked delicious as I sat there eating a burrito. It occurred to me that perhaps the reason I didn’t remember coming here was that I had been sleepwalking. It seemed far-fetched. But what else would explain not having a memory when of the events? When it was clear that I had been coming there. The only other possibility was that I had completely lost my mind. And at this point in time, she had no desire to believe she was bonkers. Perhaps I should go back into therapy?

As I swallowed the last delicious bite of my meal. I had decided that whatever was happening was out of my control. And I would continue on with my life and see what happened. It was clear that part of me wanted to be happy and so why shouldn’t I ?

And so that is how I began living my life to the fullest, and although I don’t remember all of it, at some level, I was having the time of my life. And I was going to go for it.

One morning I woke up and felt like I might be hungover, although I didn’t remember what had happened to me the night before. At least, I thought it was one night. But when I rolled over, I realized I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t in her bed. “Good grief, I said out loud.” I leaned over and looked at the man lying beside me. I couldn’t imagine who it was. I was afraid to know, and then I saw Jose’s handsome face and mustache. “Wake up, wake up, Jose.”

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

THE HOME THAT MARIE AND HUGH BUILT

1 Reply
This is a painting I did of my childhood home in Maple Shade, NJ in1987.

This is a painting I did of my childhood home in Maple Shade, Nj, in 1987.

It had been a long sixteen months since my parents passed away. My father died from lung cancer. I was certain my mother had died from a broken heart. Their marriage had been a difficult one at times. But nonetheless, my mother never recovered from his death. She seemed to be diminished in some way by her loss. They had married when she was nineteen years old. She didn’t know how to go on without him after he passed away.

When he was alive, his presence in the room, in the house, overshadowed her. It was as if his very presence diminished her. And yet, after he passed away, it seemed as if each day her energy, her presence, faded.

They had been married for fifty-seven years. She really didn’t have a life of her own before her marriage, and during their marriage, he orchestrated every moment of their lives. He decided where they would live and picked out the house without her ever seeing it. He chose all the furniture, the curtains, and the color each room was painted. He never asked her opinion. He was the man of the house. He used to refer to her as Mom. Rarely would he call her Marie.

Some days felt as if they would go on forever. At the same time, it felt like time had passed too quickly. It was hard to think about what the future held without my parents. I couldn’t imagine going through the rest of my life without their presence. My mother’s unquestioning love, my father’s energy, and intelligence, and his powerful presence.

But nonetheless, within eight months, they had both passed away. The house seemed so empty without them that I could hardly bare stepping inside the front door. After I cleaned out the house of all my parents’ belongings, including the well-worn furniture, it echoed when I walked in the front door and closed it behind me.

The last thing  I looked at before I closed the front door for the last time was the black telephone that had hung on the kitchen wall for as long as I could remember. As I stood there, I remembered all the phone calls I had made on it when I was a teenager. And how I called my best friend, Joanie, every day as soon as I got home from school. And I would ask if she would like to go for a ride on their bikes or go ice skating at Strawbridge lake.

And after my husband Bob and I moved back to New Jersey, we bought a small house in Pennsauken, a town fifteen minutes away from Maple Shade, where my parents still lived. I would call my mom and dad every morning to see how they were doing and tell them I would stop by later in the day.

My father would answer the phone and say, “hello, Susan, here’s your mother.” For some reason, he hated talking on the phone. And then he would hand over the phone to my Mother. My mom would say, “Hello, Susie.” I would say, “Hi, Mom, I was just wondering how you and daddy are doing. Is everything alright?”

My mother always said the same thing. “your father is reading the newspaper, and we just ate breakfast. I just got back from church. Are you coming over today?”

“Yes, Mom, I’ll be over in a little while. Do you need anything?” “No, your father went to the store yesterday. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

Later that day after I would come over with my two children and spend some time with my parents. My mother loved to let my youngest daughter sit on her lap. My daughter would play with my mother’s rosary while she sat there, or sometimes she would play with the scapular that hung from my mother’s neck.

Sometimes I would bring my haircutting scissors over to my parent’s house and give my parents a haircut. After I trimmed my mother’s hair, I would set it in bobby pins, and before I left, I would comb it out for her.

My father would sit at the table and read his newspaper silently. My mother would get up several times and refill his coffee cup while he smoked one cigarette after another. He would often tell me what all the neighbors were up to. Since he spent a greater part of the day watching them from the front kitchen window. And he would observe all the activity of any of the neighbors that were out and about. He often commented on how much trash they would put out on the curb.

After my father developed lung cancer, life changed drastically. He rarely got out of bed, and he had little, if anything, to say. If I went into his room, he would say, “leave me now.” Seeing my father looking so pale, thin, and quiet was heartbreaking. It seemed like he was just waiting for the end of his life to come so he could finally have peace.

After he passed away, my mother was never the same. I realized she couldn’t be left alone. So, I hired a woman named Doris Cook to stay with her during the week. And then, my siblings and I took turns having my mother stay at our houses. It was difficult for my mother because she had glaucoma and was unfamiliar with homes other than her own. She began to seem somewhat confused. However, Doris was a godsend, and my mother seemed to be comfortable with her. She was a kind and gentle person.

One night in August, I received a call from Doris that she thought my mother had had a heart attack. I told her to call an ambulance to take my mother to the hospital, and I would be there as quickly as I could. I only lived a few minutes away. My mother never recovered from the heart attack. It is so difficult to lose one’s parents. Until it happens to you can not imagine the sense of loss and emptiness you feel when your parents pass away. It’s almost like a part of you is missing.

As I looked over the house for the last time, I thought back to all the years that I lived there and then all the years afterward. I realized that every lesson I learned in life was a result of my parents. My father taught me to keep learning and growing as a person. And my love taught me how to love and be loved in return. She surely had a heart of gold. And that I was lucky enough to have them for as long as I did.

There aren’t words enough to say how much I loved them, my gratitude for all they did for me, the love, the caring, the sacrifice. I know that I will miss them for the rest of my life. And there hasn’t been a day that has gone by when I don’t think about them.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

LIFE AS I KNOW IT

1 Reply

Did you spend most of your working life looking forward to the years that you would be able to retire and spend all your time doing things that you loved? And put behind you the humdrum, repetitious decades of working for a living? Working nine to five every week, week after week, month after month, and year after year? 

I have had many different types of jobs over my lifetime. When I was in my senior year of high school, I was offered a part-time job that would transition to a full-time dental assistant when I graduated from high school.

I hadn’t given too much thought to what I would do after my high school graduation, so I said, “yes, I would like to do that. And that is how I began my working life. I worked for Dr. Edward G. Wozniak for almost five years. After that, I sold high-risk auto insurance with the Ellis Brothers in Collingswood, NJ. This was a great job because the owners of the insurance firm, Evie and Harry Ellis, didn’t like working and would take my two workmates and me out to breakfast every morning. And they looked for any opportunity to skip work.

But then I started seeing a young man who I eventually married, and I moved to Florida. I was twenty-two. I decided to go to hairdressing school at the Florida Beauty Academy in West Palm Beach because I was laid off from an insurance company that I worked for in West Palm Beach after it went bankrupt. At the time, Florida businesses would only hire people who lived in Florida for at least six months.

I had difficulty getting a job at a hair salon. So I started looking for a job that required a license to do hair and facials. And luckily, I found out about a position at the Collonaides Hotel from a friend who attended hairdressing school with me, Maggie Waisanen. She was a woman in her early fifties, but we just hit it off, despite a thirty-year age difference. She was hired at the Collonades as well. She was giving massages.

I was hired to do facials at the Collonaides Health Center at the Collonaides Hotel on Singer Island. The hotel was owned by John D MacArthur, a well-known developer, and hotel owner. Whose wealth is better known today by the John D. and Katherine T. MacArthur Foundation, still a major holder of Palm Beach. He was about eighty-five years old at the time I met him. I used to see him sitting out by the built-in pool with his nurse. He was one of the wealthiest men in Florida at that time. After several years my husband Bob decided that he wanted to attend Brooks Institute for Photography in Santa Barbara, California.

And so Bob and I packed up our belongings, and we were on our way across the country from Florida to Santa Barbara, California. It was a ten-day drive, but it was a beautiful and scenic trip that I will never forget. Bob attended Brooks for three years. I worked at St. Vincent’s School as a counselor and as the assistant Supervisor. I took care of twelve adolescent girls who were mildly retarded. I have to say that this was my favorite job that I have had so far. I came to love those children with my whole heart, and it was difficult to say goodbye when Bob finished school at Brooks.

We decided to move back to New Jersey. I hadn’t lived in New Jersey for seven years, and I missed my family. Bob found employment, and after a short time, Bob decided he wanted to buy a house. Bob had served in the Navy during the Viet Nam war, so he was eligible to use Veteran’s benefits to purchase a house. And we were able to buy the house with no downpayment. It was located in Pennsauken, New Jersey, a short drive from Maple Shade, NJ. Where I grew up, and my parents still lived.

I found out I was pregnant within a year after we moved to our new house. Bob was working in Pennsylvania at the time. We had two children in four years. I stayed home with my children for seven years until they were in school. I was thirty-six by then, and I decided to go to college since I never had the opportunity to do that when I graduated from St. Mary of the Angels high school.

I applied to Temple University in Philadelphia, Pa, at the Tyler School of Art. I also applied to the Hussian School of Art and Moore College of Art. Which was an art school for women only. I was accepted at all the schools. I decided to attend Temple because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year. I was the only adult student in the Freshman Class. The rest of the class were straight out of high school and were seventeen or eighteen years old. It was a unique and challenging experience for me. I graduated four years later with a 4.0-grade point average and a BA and Art teaching certification. Later I earned a degree to teach exceptional children. (handicapped) 

I decided, after spending several months trying to get an art teaching job in public schools with no success, to open up my own art classes. At the time, the public schools had stopped funding Art Education in the Public Schools. We purchased a large home in Pitman, Nj. The house had formerly belonged to a neuropsychologist. He saw his patients in the home. After he passed away, the house was empty for eight years. I used his offices to teach art. The students were aged five and up to eighteen. And I taught adults in the evening. And that is what I did for many years.

The years seemed to fly by as my children grew up and attended college. My oldest daughter moved out and was married. Before I knew it, Bob and I were of retirement age, and we started planning on selling our home of twenty-four years and looking for a place to retire. We decided on North Carolina because of the temperate climate and the low real estate taxes.

And here I sit, fifty-plus years later, retired. Or my version of retired. And by that, I mean I retired and started collecting Social Security.

I hadn’t been living in North Carolina longer than a month when I decided that I wanted to start doing some type of volunteer work. I investigated all the opportunities available in the area. And I finally decided that I would volunteer for the Guardian Ad Litem. Which is a volunteer citizen to represent at-risk children in the court. I had to take a college course and be certified in order to serve as a Guardian Ad Litem in the court.

Unfortunately, it turned out that the volunteer position with the Guardian ad Litem took a great deal more of my time than I realized it would. And after a year, I decided that it wasn’t for me. Although I respected the work they did to be outstanding and to be highly beneficial to children at risk of abuse and neglect.

At the same time, I decided I would like to volunteer at an Animal Sanctuary as I have always loved animals as far back as I can remember. I found an animal sanctuary, Animal Edventure, that Is in Coats, NC, and was only a fifteen-minute drive from where I live. I have been working there for six years, three mornings a week, taking care of Parrots, Macaws, and pheasants.

In addition, I started writing a blog online that includes short stories and memoirs. I have been writing all my life, but this was the first time that I ever had anyone read my stories. It took courage to put my writing out there. But here I am, almost five years later.

I have no regrets about my life or my experiences. I never let fear stop me. I always had faith in my ability to be a success in whatever I did. I look back over my life and have good memories of the places I have lived and the people I have met and befriended. And the accomplishments that grew from hard work and perseverance, and keeping faith in myself and my abilities.

I know that I will continue to create both my artwork and my writing for as long as I have breath in my body. I can not imagine a life without expressing my creativity in some way. Who knows where life will take me next? I look forward to many more challenges. Life is short so be sure to live every day to the fullest.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.