Monthly Archives: November 2024

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.