Monthly Archives: May 2025

GROWING UP IN MAPLE SHADE, AND SO ON AND SO ON

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GROWING UP IN MAPLE SHADE, NEW JERSEY, AND SO ON AND SO ON

I was born in 1951 in the Burlington County Hospital in New Jersey. I have a fraternal twin sister. Which means we were born at the same time. But we were not identical. I just celebrated my 74th birthday. Two days ago. I know seventy-four seems old to most people, especially the younger ones. I know I am no longer young, but I keep moving forward one day at a time. I try not to waste too much time being disappointed or angry. Life goes by quickly, so don’t waste it. And it’s true you only live once.

On the other hand, I can look back over my seventy-four years and think, although I’ve made a few mistakes along life’s highways, I have had an interesting and challenging life. And I do not regret a moment of it. Have I made some mistakes? Well, hell yes. But, I don’t regret the mistakes because I learned from them, and I made it a point not to repeat the same stupid mistake.

I am a baby boomer, and I must say that we baby boomers had generally great childhoods. We had a whole lot of freedom, our parents would tell us Don’t be late for dinner or lunch but that’s about it. After dinner, in the summer, we used to stay out until dark, and the only reason we came in early was if the mosquitoes were eating us alive. I grew up in New Jersey, so you know there were a million mosquitoes. In fact, during the Summer, my friends and I would stay out until dark and follow the mosquito truck that was spraying bug killer up and down all the streets in our little town. We never considered that the spray might have been toxic to us as well. And neither did our parents seem concerned about it. And so far, I haven’t noticed any adverse side effects. But, since it’s been some sixty years since that. I think I’m safe.LOL.

We used to shoot off bottle rockets and other dangerous things. Somehow, I never managed to kill myself or do permanent damage. In addition, few of my generation grew up with air conditioning. We were lucky if there was a fan in the living room, where we spent all our free time watching some TV show, like Gunsmoke. There were a whole lot of cowboy shows back then.

When we weren’t outside getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, my friends and I would ride our bikes all over South Jersey. Our parents never asked where we were; we just had to be home in time for lunch and dinner. After dinner, we would go back outside and play until our mothers would scream out at the top of their lungs,” TIME TO COME IN.” By then, we had so many bites it didn’t matter because all the windows in our houses were open. After all, it was hot as hell in our home, especially the second floor, which was a part of the attic. The mosquitoes would buzz around and around your head until you pulled the covers up over your head. Honestly, I don’t know how I survived all those unbelievably hot summers and the bugs.

I came from a family of six and my parents. My twin sister and I were the youngest. I had one brother, twenty years older than I, and three sisters who were older than I. Most of the families that lived on our street, Fellowship Road, were Catholic. My family lived two houses down from Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church. And in addition to that. I attended twelve years of Catholic school. The high School I attended was St. Mary of the Angels Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. It was an all-girl’s highschool.

When I graduated from high school, I was offered a job as a dental assistant. I took the job because there was no way my parents could afford to send my twin and me to college. So, I spent the next five years working as a dental assistant. It took up all my time, because I worked during the day and in the evening, when Dr. Wozniak often had adult patients. After about four years, I decided to look for another job so I would have some free time.

I applied for a position at Ellis Insurance, a company based in Haddon Township, NJ. I worked there for several years as well; It was an interesting place to work because the Ellis Brothers had practically no work ethic, and we spent a lot of time going out to breakfast and lunch. One day, they took all of us who worked there to the race track. And of course selling, “high-risk auto insurance.

By this time, I had decided to move out of my parents’ house, and I rented an apartment in Haddonfield, right down the street from the library and downtown Haddonfield, where I had attended St. Mary of the Angels Academy high school. So, I felt right at home.

At about this time, my best childhood friend, Joan, told me that her cousin Bob was coming to visit. Since he had just gotten out of the Navy, she knew I had always had a crush on him, and she asked if I wanted to come over. “ I said, ‘Yes.” And that, friends, was the beginning of a whole new chapter in my life as Bob and I did connect. And after he returned to Florida, where his family was currently living. We started writing back and forth. And over time, I eventually quit my job and moved to Florida. I was able to find employment at a Home Insurance Company. And worked there for a short time until I found better employment that paid more. And that’s when I decided to attend hairdressing school. I’m not entirely sure why I made that choice since I never had any desire to be a hairdresser. I didn’t pay that much attention to my hair.

But, nonetheless, I completed the program and eventually found a job. Mostly, I found myself giving perms to older ladies; I also met many young people taking the hairdressing course. And I made many friends. Overall, it was a good experience, and regardless of where Bob and I went, I was able to earn money doing hair.

At one point, Bob decided he wanted to go to Brooks Institute in California, and that is precisely what we did. When we arrived there and found a small apartment, Bob started his education. I got a job at a large department store, called Robinson’s Department Store, selling hats and wigs.

I was befrieded by a young woman who worked part-time there and she told me about a job working with mildly retarded children at St. Vincent’s School. And I thought that was a great opportunity and a million times more interesting than selling hats and wigs. And sure enough, after interviewing me, I was hired. I ended up loving this position, and I loved those kids like they were my own. I worked there for the rest of the time that Bob attended Brooks Institute. I came to love those kids like they were my own. And when Bob was about to graduate, we decided there were more opportunities in the Philadelphia area than in California.

It was difficult leaving all those kids behind, since I had come to love each one of them. Nonetheless, we packed up what worldly things we had and drove back to the Philadelphia/New Jersey area. We stayed at my parents’ childhood home for about a year, until we decided to buy a house. We were able to do so because Bob had served in the military, which allowed him to take out a home loan without a down payment, as he was eligible for a military benefit. It was in the small town of Pennsauken, New Jersey, and we lived there for fourteen years. We had two children while we were living there for fourteen years. We came to know and make friends with almost all our neighbors. It was a good experience.

 

 

Saint Mary Of The Angels Academy 1965-1969

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Saint Mary of The Angels Academy

My first memory of St. Mary’s was getting measured for the school uniform. I couldn’t get away from wearing uniforms. I wore a different uniform in Catholic Elementary School. But, on the upside, I wasn’t wearing hand-me-downs anymore. The first year I attended St. Mary of the Angels Academy, a private, Catholic, all-girl high school in Haddonfield, NJ, was the Fall of 1965. I spent my freshman year going to high school in a house that used to be a boarding school for rich girls. It was a Victorian house on King’s Highway in Haddonfield—a town where wealthy people lived.

The house was Victorian. It had winding staircases, bathrooms with claw-footed tubs, and fireplaces in the classrooms. It was a unique experience. About 200 female students attended the school. Most were from well-to-do families in Southern, NJ, which included Haddonfield.

My dear mother is the kindest person I was lucky enough to have for a mother.

My family was not wealthy. My father worked for Septa, the Philadelphia Transportation Company, as the district manager for over thirty years. My father took a second mortgage out on our house so we could attend St. Mary’s. I believe my mother wanted to keep us away from the boys.

I became even shyer and avoided boys altogether—however, the rest of the SMAA (ST. Mary of the Angels Academy and most of the rest of the student population were obsessed with boys. Spending endless hours discussing how to meet boys, kiss boys, etc. It was the sixtie,s make love, not war generation.

I had an “elite” group of friends: Christine Conn, Mary Beth Elliot, Delores O’Hearn, Anne Marie Rafferty, and Janice Short(who left after Freshman year. My sister, Karen, had her own friends, a more popular group. I spent most of my time at SMAA complaining about the nuns trying to avoid taking showers and going to the gym.

When I entered 10th grade, the house (school) was demolished and knocked down, and a vast new school was erected, state-of-the-art for that time period. But it certainly lacked the charm of attending school in a Victorian house with chandeliers. I did not excel in school as I lacked confidence in my intelligence. As I had spent my childhood hearing from my father that he didn’t know if I was lazy or just plain stupid. Karen probably did better, but probably would have done much better if she hadn’t procrastinated and spent so much time avoiding her school work. Let’s say that both Karen and I did not livie up to our potential.

The nuns(or sisters, as we called them) who taught the students were Franciscan, which was a difficult job. Their highest concerns at the time seemed to be keeping everyone’s hair out of their eyes and making sure the tuition was paid on time. This concern became more understandable when the school went bankrupt the year after we graduated.

It is difficult for me to remember the good times. I can’t really say that high school was an enjoyable experience for me. Although I had my own group of friends, I wasn’t really accepted into the general population of the school. I was shy and had a somewhat offbeat sense of humor, and I was received differently than most kids my age. I never experimented with drugs or alcohol, as some kids my age were doing.

My life at home stayed pretty much the same. All my siblings were out of the house except for my twin, Karen. My siblings had all married and had families of their own. My parents got along by having very little conversation at all. My father continued to work for SEPTA until he was 62, and then he retired. My mother worked at Wanamaker’s as a cook in the employees’ kitchen until my senior year of high school. I believe she was fifty-nine at the time. She worked hard all her life for our family and never even whispered a word of complaint. I often wondered how much happiness she experienced in her life. I fear precious little at all.

There was a great deal of turmoil politically at that time, 1969. The war in Vietnam was in full force. Many of my grade school friends (boys) were drafted. Many did not return alive or were permanently altered. There was a great deal of drug experimentation going on at the same time. I was not a participant in any of it.

My senior year of high school, I was offerend a full-time job at Dr. E.G. Wozniak, a local dentist I Oaklyn, New Jersey. I was offered a job at his dental office as a dental assistant and receptionist. I stayed there until I was twenty-one. I had a quiet life. When I was twenty-one, I met a boy through my brother-in-law, David Gatelein. He was about one year older than I. He gave me my first kiss—no big thrill. But I had little knowledge of sex. And my first experience with him was not great. Probably, because I hadn’t formed any real attachment to him, it turned out that David, though a nice looking boy was pretty screwed up. He had spent three years in Vietnam. He was given a dishonorable discharge because he attempted to “frag” (kill) his commanding officer. He dumped me like a bad habit. And I was deeply hurt by the whole thing. It took me a long time to get over it. But, eventually, I did. It turned out that he was an alcoholic, and once I found that out, I stopped talking to him. And that was the end of that.

After I quit Dr. Wozniak, I got a job at Ancora State Mental Hospital through my brother, Harry, who had worked there at one point as a psychologist. I was trained as a nurse’s aide with females in the active psyche ward. I had hoped to work with emotionally disturbed children. It didn’t last long, and it was a very bad experience.I only stayed at Ancora for a year.

Then I found a job working for the Ellis Brothers, who sold high-risk Auto Insurance. It was not a difficult job, and for the most part, I enjoyed working there because the Ellis Brothers didn’t have very strong work ethics and often wanted to go out and do something fun, including going out to breakfast every workday. And they paid.

In early 1972, my best friend Joanie set up a date with her first cousin Bob Culver, who had just left the Navy. I had a crush on him since I was about ten years old. That was the beginning of a whole new chapter of my life, which will be published next week.

 

TEMPLE UNIVERSITY

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     Once upon a time, when I was thirty-six years old, I decided to go to college. It was 1988. That’s right, I said college. Not only was I thirty-six years old, but I also had two young daughters. Jeanette was six years old, and Bridget was three. I didn’t have the opportunity to attend college at the traditional age of eighteen. My parents did not have the money to send me to college. I started working full-time as a dental assistant at eighteen. When I was twenty-two my now husband and I started seeing each other. He had just gotten out of the Navy. He was my best girlfriend’s boy cousin, and I had known him since I was about ten years old, and I had always had a crush on him. His family was living in Florida at the time. We corresponded for about a year. And I decided to move to Florida, and the rest is history. I found a job and started working full-time for an insurance Company. I hated that and decided to go to hairdressing school. It was called the Florida Beauty Academy.
Meanwhile, Bob was working late shifts. Ultimately, he decided he wanted to go to Brooks Institute for Photography, and he applied and was accepted. So, the next thing we knew, we were on our way to California. After he graduated, we decided to move back to the Philadelphia area for better opportunities in Photography.

This is our former home in NJ where I taught Art for many years to children and adults.

     We temporarily lived with my parents for about a year until Bob decided we should buy a house. Since he had served in the military, we could buy a house without paying down. The house was about twenty-five years old and needed some work. It was only about a fifteen-minute drive to my hometown of Maple Shade, where my parents lived.

     At this point, I realized that if we were going to have a family, we better get started since I was about to turn thirty. Unfortunately, it took me several years to become pregnant. First, Jeanette was born, and then Bridget three years later. Bob had found a good job by then, but unfortunately, it was not in photography; it was in electronics. As it turned out, he was quite successful working in electronics.

     Time flew by quickly, and Jeanette and Bridget grew up before I knew it. Jeanette went to kindergarten and first grade, while Bridget, three years younger, was in daycare. Meanwhile, I decided that sometime in the not-too-distant future, I would go to college. Since I did not have that opportunity after graduating from High School, I worked full-time as a dental assistant for several years.

     I had to take an exam before I was accepted into Temple University. I passed and was accepted into the Freshman Class the following September. The first day of my Freshman class I was the first to arrive even the teachers hadn’t arrived yet. So, I walked all around the campus, and the first person I met was a middle-aged man working in the front gardens. I asked if he could direct me to the Graphics design classroom. It turned out that he had a heavy Irish accent. But, somehow, I managed to figure out what he was saying. He told me to follow him and walked me to the correct building.

     I was the first one to arrive—shocking, huh? I decided to walk around the rest of the campus until it was almost time for the rest of the student body to show up. I kept peeking at the parking lot to see if anyone had arrived. Finally, I just sat down at one of the desks and waited. Finally, some students, really young-looking students, started coming into the classroom and sitting down.

     Every single one of the students, male and female, asked me if I was the instructor. After a while, I said, No, I’m not the teacher. And then they would look at me again. I guess they couldn’t imagine that I was a student. Considering that I was twice their age, I didn’t blame them. Over time, I made it my business to befriend every student in all my classes. And sure enough, they came to accept me as a fellow student and forgot about the age gap.

     When the Graphic Design teacher came in, she did a roll call. She gave me a long look, but once she realized my name was on the list, she just let the whole age thing go. As the day went on and I went to each class I was scheduled to take the first day, I began to feel comfortable in my skin and kept up my promise to introduce myself to every student in each class and ask them about themselves.

     The next day that I went to Temple, I decided that every day I would sit at a different lunch table and talk to the students at the tables, ask them their names, what class they were in, and what degree they were working towards. I even decided to introduce myself to everyone who worked at Temple, regardless of their position, lunch lady, professor, or staff member in the office. I befriended everyone over time.

     I must admit that attending college full-time with two young children was no piece of cake. My youngest, Bridget, was in a Christian Day Care Center. Jeanette was in elementary school. After school, my friend Maryanne Czyzewski’s husband watched them until I arrived home. They had a daughter who was a year younger than Jeanette. When I was on Spring Break or during the Summer, I didn’t take any college classes. And I would take care of Maryanne and Jimmy’s daughter, Laura, every weekday until they came home from work. She was a sweet little girl with no trouble at all. Jeanette loved her.

     The four years at Temple were challenging, to say the least. I went to school all day, did homework and research at night, and completed required drawings and paintings for classes, not to mention the hours and hours I spent reading textbooks on Science, history, etc., and studying for tests.

     The most time-consuming work was graphic design. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent on graphic design work for four years. I studied and completed complex paintings and the work for all my other classes. It was intense and time-consuming, but I loved it. I enjoyed the challenge, the students, and most of the teachers.

     It was the most challenging and exciting time of my life. I would do it all again. I graduated in 1992, when I was forty-one years old. I received a standing ovation when my name was called out at graduation. I never had a prouder moment than when I was handed my diploma.

     And all the students clapped their hands when my name was called out, and I accepted my diploma. I spent the rest of the Spring and the Summer with my kids and sent resumes to all the elementary and secondary schools in New Jersey. And I received no responses. Then, I found that New Jersey would no longer finance funding for art education at the elementary, middle, or high school level. So, I started sending resumes to Philadelphia elementary schools to no avail. They were not hiring art teachers either. I was heartbroken.

     One day, in the newspaper, I found a large house for sale in Pitman, New Jersey. It had been empty for eight years, and the owners had died. So, we went to an open house the next weekend, and I decided that this was where I would teach art. A doctor and his wife had owned it for many years, but had passed away.

     We put a down payment on the house in Pitman. Our home in Pennsauken did not sell right away, so we advertised that we would sell the house as a rent-to-buy. Their rent payment would be the down payment. Then, they would have to take out a mortgage and pay the balance. And through some miracle, it all worked out.

     We lived in our house in Pitman for twenty-four years. During that time, I renovated three of the rooms the previous owner used for his practice as art rooms. I named my business THE ART ROOM. And I made a flag with that sign on it. And put an Ad in the local newspaper called THE PITMAN NEWS AND WORLD REPORT. This was in September of 1994. I taught art to children after school and to Adults in the evening. It was a great experience, and I became familiar with almost everyone who lived in town and some people in the nearby cities. I have to say it was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done in my life. And if given a chance, I would do it again.

     Bob and I put our house in Pitman up for sale. We had spent many years renovating the house inside and out, including putting a new roof on it and the old garage. I had spent years creating a beautiful garden in the front and back, including a small Koi Pond. We would have loved to live there for the rest of our lives, but the truth was that the real estate taxes in New Jersey are very high, and once we both retired, we couldn’t afford the taxes and the upkeep of such a large home. So, I started investigating the internet about the most affordable states to retire to. And I concluded that North Carolina was the place for us. And here we are, nearly nine years later, living in a smaller home that we have improved over time, including enlarging the gardens and adding a pond. I no longer teach art. But, it is still dear to my heart.

     I have kept myself active by volunteering at an animal sanctuary and caring for exotic birds. You never know where life will take you, but I know that although I am no longer young, I will continue to participate in life with all my energy. You will never see me just sitting around; I will always move forward until I reach the end.

 

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 a 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 sometime soon. 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 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 who 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 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 has 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.