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.

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.

My Dear Mother

My maiden name was Susan Carberry, and my family of origin was from Ireland. I grew up in a large family with five siblings. I was a fraternal twin. Being in a large family had its advantages and its disadvantages. One of the advantages was that you were rarely alone. One of the disadvantages was that I was never alone. I shared my room with my twin sister, Karen. And with my two older sisters, Eileen and Betty. My eldest sister, Jeanie, had her room as well as my oldest sibling, Harry, who had his own room.

Another disadvantage, I being the youngest and the smallest, was that I was the last in line to receive the hand-me-down clothes. We did all get a new Easter outfit every year. Sometimes, we have to pick out the clothes ourselves, sometimes not. If my father picked out the clothes, you could bet they were durable and extremely ugly.

We Carberrys were good Catholics, despite not having a lot of money. We all attended Catholic School through high school. This meant we wore uniforms. In grade school, there were maroon wool jumpers with a white blouse. And of course, a beanie on the girl’s head. The beanie had the emblem of OLPH School on it, which stood for Our Lady of Perpetual Help. In highschool I attended St. Mary of The Angel’s Academy. It was an all-girl school. We wore navy blue uniforms, the skirts were pleated and didn’t look good on anyone, unless they were really thin. Going to Catholic School meant nuns taught us, which is another benefit???

My parent’s house and my father’s first car

Sunday morning meant Sunday Mass and a big breakfast with the whole family. My mother fried bacon and then fried the eggs in the bacon grease, which was kept in a coffee tin on the stove. My father’s job was to butter the toast, generously, I might add. My mother made a special cake on Sunday morning for dessert after supper. It was half vanilla and half chocolate, with pudding in between the layers and coconut on the icing.

For supper, we always had a roast and potatoes. Supper was a quiet affair at our house; my father was not a fan of free speech. He did not care for any opinions that did not agree with his. He was a great believer in children being seen and not heard, especially while watching TV, which was any night he didn’t have to work. My father was the head dispatcher at SEPTA, the transit company in Philadelphia, for thirty years. My father was an intelligent man. My father slept during the day, and it would behoove you not to wake him up; you would regret it. He was called “The Old Bear” for a reason.

After school, my mother could be found ironing without fail. She ironed all our clothes, sheets, socks, and towels. These were days before wash-and-wear garments. Any clothes that weren’t washed one day would be sprinkled with water, rolled up, and stored in the refrigerator until the next day. My mother would always offer us cookies and milk or crackers with peanut butter and jelly as a snack after school.

Life in our house was very predictable; we had the same thing for dinner each night of the week. On Sundays, it was roast and potatoes; on Mondays, it was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. A special treat was on the first Friday of the month. When we Catholics couldn’t eat meat. We had tuna fish casserole, with potato chips on top. My mother was not a creative cook, but we never went away hungry. And we never had to ask “What’s for dinner?”

We watched the same TV shows each week. Monday through Friday we went t school. Saturday, we played with our friends, of whom there were many. On Sunday, we had the “special cake.” I attended the children’s Mass every Sunday at nine o’clock with all the other kids from my elementary school.

When my sister and I came home from Mass, my mother had breakfast ready. She always attended the 7 AM Mass with her Altar Rosary Society. She was a very devout woman. She attended Mass every single morning and said the rosary in the afternoon after she had finished all her housework.

After school, I went home. Our house was only two houses away from the school. When I arrived home, my mother was always bent over the ironing board, ironing everyone’s clothes. She ironed everything, including clothes, sheets, etc.

My dear mother always offered us cookies and milk or crackers with peanut butter as snacks after school.

Life in our house was predictable. We ate the same thing for dinner every night, every day of the week. For instance, we had tuna fish every Friday, especially on First Friday, when we weren’t supposed to eat meat. Although my mother was not a creative cook, we never went away hungry. And like I said, there was always that homemade cake to look forward to.

We watched the same TV Shows as well, the shows my father liked, he was the boss applesauce. On Saturdays, we played with our friends. Sunday, as I said, was the “Big Breakfast Day.” And dinner on Sunday was usually a roast beef. Our birthdays were a big event, getting a new toy and having a birthday cake with candles. After that, we looked forward to Christmas. My father was a bit of a grinch, but didn’t dampen our anticipation. My mother always made it special. My mother was the kindest, most hardworking person I ever knew. I feel so blessed to have had such a kind and loving mother. I still miss her to this day.

My father was a man of few words but made his feelings known by a look. And that was all it took to get his point across. His nickname was “THE BIG BEAR.” The kitchen was an essential element in our house. All important events took place in the kitchen.

My mother always had a comforting word for us if we had a bad day. If we were acting out, she would say,” Wait until your father gets home.” That would definitely change our tune.

Ultimately, our home was not all that different from other homes in the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s. I had a father who earned money and paid the bills but was not involved in raising the kids unless there was a serious problem. Sisters and brothers who loved and hated each other lived in the “CARBERRY HOME.” It was two doors down from Our Lady of Perpetual HELP church and school.

Sometimes, I find it challenging to write about my past because what is happening now in the present is overwhelming and terrifying. I was born in 1951, which, to many people, may seem like a very, very long time ago. Nonetheless, the last seventy-three years seemed to fly by. Although I don’t believe I’ve lived an extraordinary life, it has been an interesting and challenging one.

I came from an Irish Catholic family, and I had five siblings. Of which my twin and I were the last offspring. My older brother, Hugh, who was nineteen years older than I, passed away several years ago from liver cancer. He was a psychologist who spent his adult life helping people. My oldest sister, Jeanette, was twenty years older. She passed away when I was forty-one. She had Alpha 1 deficiency, which caused her to have a genetic form of emphysema. She was such a wonderful person and kind to all. I still miss her to this day. My sisters, Eileen and Elizabeth, are retired in New Jersey. My twin also lives in New Jersey and retired after working as a District Manager for Subaru for years.

I haven’t seen them in nine years because when I retired, we moved to North Carolina, where living is less expensive. My family was surprised when I decided to move to Florida in 1974 to be near the young man I eventually married. We recently celebrated our 50th Wedding Anniversary. We’ve had our ups and downs. But somehow, we keep rolling along a bumpy road at times. I keep putting one foot in front of the other.

We lived in Pitman, New Jersey, in a large Victorian house for twenty-four years, when we realized we could not retire and continue living in our home because we couldn’t afford to pay New Jersey real estate taxes after we both retired. It was a hard dicision because we loved that house so much. And we made many friends in Pitman during our twenty-four years there. We packed all our worldly belongings, rented a moving van, and headed for North Carolina.

Painting of the house I grew up in Maple Shade, NJ

So here we are, nine years later, in North Carolina. I have been volunteering at an Animal Sanctuary for almost nine years. I have always been an animal lover, which seemed like a good match. I have cared for Parrots, Macaws, pigeons, doves, and pheasants. I have to admit that the birds can be pretty noisy, but I got used to it after a while. There are over two hundred and twenty animals there. It is out in the country in a town named Coats. If you ever visit North Carolina, you should make a point of going there. You won’t be disappointed.

In addition, I have a writer’s blog called Write On, which I post on Facebook. I have about 900 followers. You are welcome to follow it if you wish. Here is the link: https://susanaculver.com.

St. Mary of the Angels Academy

Over my lifetime, I have worked in many different kinds of jobs. My first employment was right out of High School. I was offered a position at a dentist’s office as a dental assistant at Dr. E. G. Wozniak in Haddon Township, NJ. His wife had attended the same High School—St Mary of the Angels Academy, but years before I did. So when Dr. Wozniak needed a new assistant, the principal of St. Mary’s recommended me for the job. I was hired, and it turned out that I was pretty proficient at it. And I worked there for quite five years. I liked the job, but unfortunately, I had to work many evenings and on Saturdays. And that didn’t leave me much time to have a life outside of working.

I decided to look for a nine-to-five job, only five days a week, and no evening or Saturday. I found a position at a high-risk auto insurance company called The Ellis Brothers. It was a fascinating job, and the Ellis brothers were from a wealthy family in Haddonfield, NJ. And they didn’t like working nine to five, so my co-workers, the Ellis Brothers, and I often went out for breakfast, etc. They were fun to work with and I stayed there for a couple of years.

About this time, my friend, who lived down the street from me, introduced me to her boy cousin. And we went out a couple of times, and then he had to return to Florida, where his family lived.

Bob and I communicated by mail for quite a while and occasional phone calls. I decided that this was the guy for me. I suggested that I move to Florida to get to know him better. He said yes. And as a result I made plans to travel to Florida via the Auto-train I had to drive several states away from NJ and then my car, a 1970 Volkswagen was loaded on the train. I was a passenger on the train, and believe me, it was a long ride. I had the unfortunate luck to have a mother with her infant baby sitting next to me, and as a result, I had no opportunity to get any sleep. It was a 24-hour ride. When I finally disembarked from the train, my car was also removed. And I spent at least another five hours sweating out in the Florida heat, waiting for “Bob” to arrive so I could follow him to the apartment that he rented for me. He finally arrived, and I have t admit we were both tired since he had worked all night and then had to drive for hours to the location I was waiting at.

It was quite a distance. Thank god my car had air conditioning, or I might have died. And I was starving. I had called my parents to let them know that I had arrived safely, and then I called them again when I arrived at the apartment. My parents were upset that I had moved away. And my mother had started crying on the phone. I felt terrible about it. But, at some point, we all must grow up and create our own lives separate from our parents. No matter how much we love them. It’s a part of life. Being a parent is not an easy task. I know that from my experience as a parent of two adult children.

Once I got settled in the apartment, I started looking for employment. One of Bob’s girl cousins suggested that I apply at an insurance company she had formerly worked at. That is precisely what I did. I worked there briefly, when they started laying people off for some reason. Their business wasn’t doing well. So, here I was again, unemployed. I looked for a job for a couple of months with no luck. Then, I got the brilliant idea to go to hairdressing school. So, I applied and was accepted. I had no experience in hairdressing, nor did I care about hairdressing. Nonetheless, I attended the Florida Beauty Academy for almost a year. Then, I took the state test to get my license. And I passed it with flying colors. And that was the beginning of part two of my adventures in Florida. I will continue my story next week. Stay tuned. It gets better.

As far back as I can remember, I always felt I didn’t quite fit in with everyone my age. Reflecting on my childhood experiences, I believe there were several reasons why I felt like the “Odd One.” 

I grew up in the 1950s. My fraternal twin didn’t seem to care for me at all. On the other hand, I had a lot of friends in the neighborhood where I grew up. My best friend, Joanie, lived three houses away from my house. Then, I made friends with a new girl who lived at the end of Fellowship Road.

That is the name of the street I lived on until I was twenty when I moved out. And there was the fixation I had on Cats. I loved them. The neighbor lady, Mrs. Collins had many, many cats,, and they lived in her basement and could go in and out through a flap in the basement window. They would then be inside a fenced-in area that ran from the back of her house to the end of her backyard. I became obsessed with those cats. I visited them every day, sometimes several times a day, for my entire childhood. And Mrs. Collins had a dog named Rudy, who I loved as well. That is where my love of animals began.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I had no friends. I had a lot. First, my best friend, Joanie, lived next door to Mrs. Collins. And all the other kids who lived on Fellowship Road, including the boys. I used to go next door and play with army men with my next-door neighbor, Jackie Rice. He was a few years older than me but a friendly kid. His mother was a window as her husband had died many years before. I used to go to Joanie’s house as soon as I was dressed. Her father soon told me not to come over so early or often. Fortunately, he wasn’t home that much during the day since he worked long hours at an Acme Food store.

After school, I would play with all my school friends, as my friend Joanie had to do her homework right after school. I did mine after dinner. Before I had a bike, I used to walk to my friends’ houses. But once I was on wheels, there was no stopping me. I went over all my girlfriends’ houses and didn’t leave until it was almost dinnertime or when their parents said,” Time to go home, Susie.”

When I wasn’t visiting my friends, I would make things out of stuff I found around my house. I was always a creative kid and kept myself busy. I spent much time at the Maple Shade Library, where I learned how to read. It was located on Main Street, next to the police station. Once I had my bike, there was no telling where I would go or how far. As long as I got home in time for dinner, there was no problem. My parents never asked me where I went or what I was doing. I kid you not. Maybe they thought they were better off knowing what I was up to at any given time.

I rode my bike to Strawbridge Lake and some as far as the Moorestown Mall, the first Mall in Southern NJ. I never had any money, but I still liked walking up and down inside the Mall. At the time, they had a giant birdcage with Parrots, and I came to love those birds. My mother had a pet, a parakeet. And we had a dog (actually, it was my father’s dog; his name was Andy. I loved that dog.

My father did not believe a dog should always be kept in the house. And he would allow him to go and come at will and never seemed to worry where he went. Because he always came back. He also gave Andy corn on the cob to eat, and when Andy went outside, he would poop corn in all our neighbor’s yard. Our neighbors were not fond of Andy. But my father loved that dog. And every night, Andy would lay on the floor next to my “father’s chair.” And my father would pet him all night until he went to bed.

As I related to you early in this memoir, I was not your regular kid. I was extremely creative. I always loved making things, drawing, and making up stories. I told so many stories that most of my family and friends took everything I said with a grain of salt.

When I graduated from the eighth grade, my parents decided that my sister, Karen, and I would attend St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. We had to take the bus back and forth. St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy was an all-girls school, which was just fine with me because, at the time, I didn’t care about boys. I admit I didn’t put much effort into studying and doing my homework. My mother made every effort to make sure I was doing what was required, and it was because of her efforts that I graduated from high school. My mother was the kindest, most loving person I ever met or had in my life. She worked hard all her life and never complained about anything. Everyone said,” She was a saint.” And I believe that was true. My mother was a loving and caring person who worked hard every day. I was so lucky to have her.

THIS IS A DRAWING I MADE OF MY HOME IN MAPLE SHADE, NJ, WHERE I GREW UP.

My father was something akin to a “Big Grouch.” His nickname was “The Old Bear.” And he could be pretty harsh. Over the years, I realized I was lucky enough to have my parents in my life. He did everything he could for all of his children. I’m not saying my father was perfect; he wasn’t. He worked hard but also had his own life outside of home. He played cards for money. On his days off, he had a part-time job at Johnny Marrow’s Auto Supply Store in downtown Maple Shade. He also went to the Garden State Racetrack and played horses. Once, he won big, and he took my entire family out for dinner on his winnings. It was the only time I remember attending dinner with my whole family. I’ll never forget it.

My mother worked at Wanamaker’s employee kitchen while my sister and I attended St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy (a girl’s high school.) I’m not saying my family was perfect; we weren’t. But, as I look back over those many years, I know that I was blessed to have my parents, four sisters, and brother. My older brother was a psychologist and spent his whole life helping people. My eldest sister, Jeanie, lived in New York most of her adult life. And she was lovely and so funny and intelligent. Unfortunately, Jeanie had Alpha-one Atrypsin Deficiency (emphysema), and after many years of being ill, she passed away at forty-one. When I was living in California with my husband Bob, he was attending Brooks Institute for Photography. My only brother, Harry, passed five years ago from liver cancer. I have always been so proud of my brother, who spent his whole life helping people. Luckily, I still have my sister, Karen (my fraternal twin), Eileen, and my sister, Liz. And many nieces and nephews and great-nieces and nephews. There’s nothing like an Irish family. And I feel blessed to be a part of it. 

As for myself, although I was somewhat of a shy child, I grew up to be outgoing and independent. I moved out of my parent’s house when I was twenty, and I got my apartment in Haddonfield, NJ, which happened to be the town where I went to high school at St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy. And it was about that time when my best friend Joan, who grew up down the street from my cousin, Bob, was visiting her. She asked if I wanted to see him since I had a childhood crush on him. And that my friends were the beginning of the rest of my life. Bob and I went out a couple of times, and then he returned to Florida, where his family lived. We kept in touch by letter writing and phone calls, and after several months, I moved to Florida to be near Bob. And that my friends was the beginning of my new life, we were married and then Bob decided to Brooks Institue for Photography and we were of to California where we lived for several years until he graduated.

After his graduation, we decided to move back to New Jersey and the Philadelphia area. Where he felt there were better opportunities for work. He wasn’t able to find photography work. So, he started working with electronics which he was proficient and was hired. And that, my friends, was the beginning of the rest of our lives. We decided to start a family. We have two adult children now. Who are both highly intelligent and talented. Jeanette is married, lives in Philadelphia, and makes gorgeous clothing. Bridget lives with us in North Carolina and works in ceramics. However, I spent many years teaching art and painting. I have found that I love writing and have spent much of the last eight years in my free time writing short stories and memoirs. I have also volunteered at an animal sanctuary in Coats, NC, for almost nine years. I care for Parrots, Doves, pigeons, pheasants, and birds of all sizes. As I have said, I’ve always had a great love of animals.

In addition, I have two dogs and ten birds, and my daughter has a cat. I don’t know what my life will hold, but I hope I have many years ahead of me. I look forward to whatever time I have left. Life goes by quickly, so don’t waste any of it.