At the end of May, I celebrated my seventy-third birthday. That’s right, I’m seventy-three years old. It is almost impossible to believe that many years have flown by so quickly. Nonetheless, that is the reality that I’m facing at this time of my life.

I remember quite clearly when my parents were that age. I recall when my father retired from his long-time job at PTC or SEPTA, which stands for the Pennsylvania Transportation Company. He was the head dispatcher for over forty years. He had started out as a bus driver. And he often mentioned to me how much he loved that job. However, his mother, Elizabeth, insisted that he apply for an office position at SEPTA since she believed it was a position where he could move up the Corporate Ladder. He apparently didn’t feel like he had much choice since his mother was a strong-willed woman who would always get her way. As it turned out, he did as she requested, and he ended up working in that office position for the rest of his working career. His mother ended up living in a nursing home in the last years of her life.

I have a vague memory of meeting my paternal grandmother when she was living in that nursing home. My sister and I were given a long strip of tape with pennies stuck on it. I was thrilled because I looked forward to spending all those pennies at Shucks (a candy store) on Main Street in the town I grew up in, Maple Shade. That was the only time I ever saw her.

I was thirty-six when my father passed away, and a year later, my mother passed. She was seventy-six, and I was thirty-seven when my dear mother passed away from congestive heart failure. I always believed her heart broke when my father died. I spent the last few years of my parent’s lives taking care of them and taking care of my two young children, who were then five and two. My father died of lung cancer. My mother had congestive heart failure.

I can not put into words how deeply I missed my parents and how I grieved for their loss for many years. In fact, it has been thirty-four years since they died, and I still think about them almost every day since then. My parents worked hard and tried to give their children the best life possible. There were six of us. There was a significant age gap between us; my brother, Harry, was twenty years older than me, and my sister, Karen. My oldest sister, Jeanette, was nineteen years older, and Eileen and Liz were eight and seven years older than Karen and I.

So here I am, seventy-three years old, retired, and living in North Carolina. At some point after my mother passed away, I decided that I was going to experience a life that was challenging and interesting. But I also decided I wanted children. At the grand old age of thirty, I had my oldest daughter, Jeanette, and three years later, my daughter, Bridget.

When I was thirty-six, I decided to go to college. I applied to several universities in Philadelphia. I had to write a resume and prepare an art portfolio with my work, paintings, and drawings. I was accepted at all the Universities I applied to. I decided to attend Temple University because they offered me a scholarship for the first year.

This was a challenging decision for me to make, not only was I married, and had a home to take care of but, I had two small children who were six and three years old. And the only money I had was the $900.00 my parents left me after they passed. Each of my siblings received the same amount. And the remainder of my parent’s money went to the cost of their funerals when they passed away.

Before my mother passed away, she told me that I should not put my own needs and ambitions before everyone else’s. If I had a desire to do something, no matter how challenging, I should go for it. And that is exactly what I did.

And so, at the ripe old age of thirty-six, I entered The Tyler School of Art as a Freshman. I can not tell you how many of the students mistook me for a teacher since there was almost twenty years difference between them and myself. Over time, all the students realized that although I was older than them, I was committed to learning as much as I could, and I dedicated every free moment of my life to learning all I could. I always had my assignment on time, I never missed a day of class in four years. And I made it my business to get to know every student I came in contact with a friend.

The professors and teachers at Tyler made it a habit of always calling on me first. In a short time, they realized that I always read the required reading, and my assignments were always completed and handed in on the day they were due. Since my work was always done on time, all the teachers used my artwork, be it outstanding or not, which was the subject of criticism by both the teachers and the students.

I have to say that my decision to go to college at the ripe old age of thirty-six was a good one. And I’ve never regretted it for a moment. I made many friends at Tyler, including some of the teachers. It was the biggest challenge I took in my life, aside from becoming a parent to two children. I didn’t take any summer classes since my children were not in school during the summer. So, I spent all my free time with them. I even babysat my friend and neighbor’s child, who lived several blocks away from us. And she worked full-time.

When I finally completed college and graduated at the top of my class with a 4.0 average and Magnum cum laude and teaching credentials. I have to admit it was one of the most challenging things I ever accomplished. After graduating, I spent many months looking for an art teacher’s position in public and private schools. At some point, I realized that art was being removed from the elementary and high school curriculum, and there weren’t any jobs. This was after I sent my resume to every public and private school in Philadelphia and New Jersey area. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was at the time. I had spent four years of my life in art school at Temple University, only to realize that art classes were no longer taught at the elementary, middle, and high school levels. It appeared as if these programs were no longer funded.

After a time, I decided that somehow, somehow, I was going to create my opportunity to teach art. And I did, At the time, were owned a small home in Pennsauken, NJ. I decided to start looking for a larger home, an older home where I could teach art. One day, I found an advertisement for a house for sale in Pitman, NJ. And my husband and I went to the open house. And I knew in a moment that this was the answer to my prayers. It was a big house with three floors and a separate section used by its previous owner as an office. The house had been unoccupied for eight years. And so far noone had made an offer on it.

The day that we went to the open house, I knew this house was the answer to my prayers. The section of the house that had been used for an office had three rooms and two large storage areas. My husband and I talked to the realtor and found out that the house had been unoccupied for at least eight years. And it needed a new roof asap. I didn’t let this stop me. We sold our house in Pennsauken with a rent-to-buy option. And then we made an offer on the house in Pitman, and it was accepted. We moved to the Pitman house in mid-winter. And we spent the next several years improving, painting, and putting a new roof on the house when the weather allowed. I can’t tell you how much work this involved, but it took years. After we setteled in I started advertising all of the town of Pitman, and nearby towns about about Art classed being available for children during the day, and adults in the earling evening. It was slow in the beginning, but over time, it picked up momentum, and I taught art to children, adolescents, and adults for many years. We lived there for twenty-four years. I cannot tell you how much I came to love Pitman, our home, and the people who lived there. Unfortunately, at one point, we could no longer obtain insurance to cover our house and the students who attended my classes, and we had to close down The Art Room. So, at this point, we decided to put up our house for sale and retire.

And that, my friends, is when my husband and I retired and moved to North Carolina, and we have been there ever since. You never know what challenges you will face in life. But my advice is never to lose faith in yourself and never be afraid to accept a challenge, no matter how difficult it may seem. Keep moving forward in life, and don’t let anyone or anything keep you from accomplishing what you want to achieve in life. Don’t ever lose faith in yourself. At my age, seventy- three I get up first thing in the morning, put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving forward. I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary for eight almost nine years, and I have been writing this blog for eight years, writing short fictional stories and memoirs. I don’t know what I’ll do next, but I have no fear: I will be doing something exciting and challenging from this moment in my life to my last breath. Never give up on yourself or your ability to accomplish every challenge that comes your way.

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