Sorry, I forgot to attach the link. Here it is https://susanaculver.com for my blog, Write On.
Susan A. Culver
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Author Archives: Susan
SPRING BREAK
Dear Write-On Followers: I am taking a Spring Break for the next two weeks. I will be spending my time working in my garden. I will be posting four of my best stories, and you are free to read any of my other 285 stories that I have written in the past five-plus years. Here is the link to Write ON blog:https://susanaculver.com
Susan A. Culver
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COMING OF RETIREMENT AGE AS A BABY BOOMER
I have spent the last seven years since I retired reflecting on my life and experiences. And how those experiences have influenced the person I have become. I believe my parents had the most effect on the development of my personality.
My father worked hard his entire adult life as the Head Dispatcher for SEPTA for over forty years to provide for our family. He was strict and had high standards. He expected his children to achieve. He also had a short fuse, and woe be the person who behaved in a way that he disapproved of. My mother was a kind and loving person who never said anything hurtful to anyone in her life. At times she worked outside of our home, cleaning other people’s houses and cleaning the public school, and occasionally she did ironing for other people.
When I was attending St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy, she worked in the employee’s kitchen at Wanamaker’s Department Store to help offset the cost of the tuition. She was in her early sixties at the time. She was a deeply devout woman and went to Mass every day of her life.
St. Mary of the Angels Academy
Every afternoon she could be found saying the rosary in her bedroom.
I was born into a family of four children, and I have a fraternal twin. Having six children was not an unusual size family when I was born in 1951. I had friends who had eleven children in their families. Since there was no reliable form of birth control at the time. And the Catholic church frowned on birth control.
I grew up two houses down from Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church and elementary school. I attended twelve years of Catholic School and eight years at OLPH Parochial school. And then four years at St. Mary of the Angels Academy. Which was an all-girl school located in Haddonfield, New Jersey.
For those of you who are not familiar with the Baby Boomer Generation, I have noticed over the years that many of us share similar characteristics. Characteristics were no doubt modeled by our parents. We have a strong and focused work ethic. We worked hard for everything we achieved, and it was not handed to us. We are not afraid of challenges.
And even now, those of us who are retired engage in volunteer work. Before I retired, I took a class to learn how to teach English as a second language to people who migrated to the USA and spoke limited English. In addition, I taught Basic Skills to people who didn’t have the opportunity to finish high school and wanted to get a GED so that they were able to get better-paying jobs.
The Boomers learned how to be self-reliant and independent and have strong work ethics. We are self-reliant and confident and are not afraid to challenge any practices in our workplace. We had to learn to be competitive in our search for employment since there were so many people in our generation and, therefore, competition for employment in the workplace.
For those of us who wanted to attend college but whose families could not afford to send us, we set goals to do so outside the norm—for instance, going to junior college and going to school over time to earn college degrees. As for myself, I made the decision to attend college at the age of thirty-six. I had two children at home at the time. I applied to Temple Tyler School of Art and the Hussian School of Art, and Moore College of Art, which was a woman’s college. I was accepted at all the schools I where I applied.
Tyler School of Art
I made the decision to attend Temple University in Philadelphia because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year based on my portfolio. I graduated from Temple University when I was forty years old. My children were ten and seven at the time. It was a challenge to balance my role as a parent, wife, and college student. I often only had two or three hours of sleep at night during the week. And during the summer, I used to babysit the daughter of a friend of mine. I graduated in the top ten percent of Temple University with a 4.0 average and two degrees, Fine Art and Art Education.
When I graduated from Temple University, I found that there were precious few teaching positions in public schools for Art teachers since public schools in the early 1990s were cutting back their budgets in Art and Music. After applying to every school in the three surrounding counties for almost a year, I decided that I was going to start my own school. We decided to move to a bigger home that could accommodate teaching art. And we found it in Pitman, New Jersey. The house was over 4,000 square feet and used to be owned by a Doctor of neuropsychology. He and his wife had passed away over eight years before that. And as you can imagine, the house was in need of a great deal of work since the house had remained empty for all those years. And so, the first thing we had to do was have a new roof on the home. 
I spent many months working and painting the doctor’s three patients’ rooms and preparing them for classrooms to teach art. I spent many years teaching students that came to my classes, both children during the day and adults at night. I taught classes in drawing and painting and the basics of three-dimensional art.
It was fulfilling and challenging work. We lived in that house for twenty-four years. We sold it when we were preparing to retire to North Carolina. It was extremely difficult to leave our home since we had put so many years living there and improving it for years. This Included a garden that I created over many, many years. We ended up selling the house to a younger couple that had two children. The husband was a lawyer who set up his office in what had been my art studios. I have to admit the day that we went to the settlement was one of the most difficult days of my life. I still miss that house and all the friends and neighbors that we had come to love in our twenty-four years in Pitman.
I believe that my personality and the influences that surrounded me growing up in the Baby Generation gave me the confidence and willpower to meet challenges in my life that were often difficult. Over my lifetime, I moved from my parent’s home to my own apartment when I was twenty. I moved to Florida when I was twenty- two to be near the young man I fell in love with. And eventually, we were married and moved to Santa Barbara, California, where my husband attended Brooks Institute to study Photography. We moved back to New Jersey when he graduated and bought a small house in Pennsauken, NJ, where we lived for fourteen years and had our two children, who are now adults.
Animal Edventure Susan talking to Montana, a cockatoo.
And now here I am in North Carolina, where we moved to at retirement. And we didn’t know a soul here but made our home here all the same. I volunteered as a Guardian Ad Litem in the Smithfield Court House, representing at-risk children. And for the past seven years going on eight years, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary called Animal Edventure, where I have taken care of Macaws, Parrots, and Pheasants. I’m still going strong and don’t have any plans to stop at any time in the near future. I almost forgot to mention that I created WRITE ON, my writer’s blog on the internet, and have been writing and publishing a new story every week going on six years.
I don’t know what else I may do in the future but have no doubt I will continue to create and grow for the remainder of my life, for however long that may be. I will keep on, keeping on. Have no doubt—Susan A. Culver, artist, and writer.
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A RUN OF BAD LUCK AND A GREAT FUTURE
I heard my alarm clock go off and blindly reached across my pillow to turn off the alarm. There is no more annoying noise than an alarm clock. I suppose that is its sole purpose in life, making a horrible noise that people can not sleep through.
As I lay there after I slammed my fist down on the alarm clock, I tried to think of a single reason why I should get up and shower and get dressed. And then I looked over at my desk and saw a stack of bills that could pass for the Leaning Tower of Pizza. I had recently been laid off from my job. Apparently, the company I had been working for was having its own run of bad luck. Since I found out the day I was called into my boss’s office and informed that, unfortunately, I was being laid off. Because the company was going bankrupt, apparently, the vice president had been slowly bleeding the company dry in the past year. And no one caught on until it was too late. Since, apparently, he had been cooking the books. Can you believe it?
Business towers
I slowly lowered my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. My head was spinning like a top. That’s when I noticed the empty bottle of Macallan Lalique whiskey, a bottle my father had left me in his will. It was probably the most expensive hangover I ever had. And at that moment, I realized that I had to get to the toilet now, not in a minute, this moment. Unfortunately, I didn’t get there fast enough. I felt tears run down my cheeks as I looked at my newly installed carpet, which would no doubt retain the smell of that Macallan Lalique whiskey until the end of my days. I rose from the putrid puddle and slowly made my way into the bathroom and ran the cold water, and put a cold washcloth on my face. It was going to be a long day.
Just then, the phone rang, and I thought my head was going to explode. There was no way I was going to answer the phone, and it rang and rang until I thought I would lose my mind. And finally, the answering machine picked up. I heard my ex-wife’s strident and shrill voice speaking. Apparently, she was extremely annoyed that my last alimony check hadn’t arrived yet. God, would it ever stop?
Well, she was going to become even more annoyed when I told her I didn’t know when I’ll be able to send any more alimony checks since my cupboards were bare, as well as all my bank accounts. I was dead broke. And so far, I didn’t see any end to it until I was able to get a new job and start paying all my bills. And that she was at the bottom of my priority list. She could sue me, but it would be a waste of time and effort since I was renting my apartment and selling all my furniture and belongings that had any value at all. Not to mention that I also had to sell my wedding band and the gold watch I was given when I got my last promotion before my company went under.
I had already explained to her several months ago that I wasn’t holding out on her and that I was at the end of my string. Honestly, sometimes I felt like pulling my hair out. But that would be an impossible task since I had very little hair left on my head. In the last year, I aged tremendously, and I looked ten years older than I did before my wife asked for a divorce.
The only reason I have been holding on to my sanity at all is because of my children. They mean the world to me. And I make every effort not to miss any days that I am able to see them. In fact, I have spent more time with them since the divorce than when I was married to their mother.
When I was a kid, I was really into playing basketball. But, once I got married and was working long hours at a high-pressure job, I rarely spent any time with my boys. I worked late every night and had to go on business trips that took me away for weeks at a time. I missed so much of their childhood. So, after the divorce, I made it a priority to spend as much time with my kids as possible. I feel like I’m really starting to know them. Before the divorce, I barely knew them. And now I feel like I’m not just their dad. We have become friends.
I really had no clue what I should do next. I had sent out so many resumes that I ran out of companies to send them to. I called everyone I knew from my past employment and let them know that I was available for a new position asap. I was about to give up, but I realized deep down that wasn’t an option. If I just had to worry about myself, it would be one thing. But I couldn’t give up because my kids depended upon me to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.
The other day I took a public bus, and I overheard two people talking who were sitting directly behind me. And the older guy was talking to a much younger man and telling him that he should consider applying for unemployment and food stamps. Because if he had worked and contributed when he was working that now that he needed this help, he should apply for it.
As I sat there contemplating the older man’s advice, I realized he might as well be talking to me since I was in the same predicament. It’s not that I didn’t know it existed. It was just that I never thought I would find myself in a place where I would need financial assistance from the government. I guess I was embarrassed to admit it. But, at that moment, I realized that I did need that help. And it occurred to me that I should also apply for a job through the unemployment office. 
And that is just what I did the very next day. First, I applied for unemployment benefits, and then I went to the unemployment office and applied for a job. When I spoke to one of the employees there, I explained my situation. And I applied for a job at every business that might have an opening in my field. And now I was desperate, and I was willing to take any job to pay my bills and help pay my child support. I was asked to fill out a myriad of forms explaining my experience, previous workplaces, and what my income had been during my most recent employment.
The man who interviewed me told me that I had no reason to feel embarrassed because I had lost my job. Many people have found themselves in this position at some point in their working life. I filled out all the forms, and I told him I needed work right now. And he showed me several jobs that needed help right now. He also told me that the pay rate was lower than in my previous jobs. But I could start working by the end of the week if I was willing. I said, “yes, I’m more than willing. And he picked up the phone and called, and then he said to me, “well, here is a job that you can start today. But be aware this is not a corporate job. This is a small business owner that is looking for a partner. It is a small restaurant. Have you ever worked in a restaurant?”
“Well, I put myself through college working in a small restaurant on campus. And, of course, my experience in the corporate world gives me the experience of how to grow a business. I have many contacts with companies that might be interested in using the restaurant’s services for corporate meetings. What do you think?”
“That sounds like a good fit or a least a beginning for you with an opportunity for you to move up if and when this restaurant owner wants to enlarge his restaurant or add more locations. Here is the address. You have an appointment tomorrow morning at ten thirty. Make sure you arrive on time. It never looks good if you are late for an interview.”
The restaurant was only a twenty-minute bus ride from the Employment office. I was somewhat nervous about the interview. And then I realized that I had no reason to be. I had been talking and dealing with heads of major corporations for years. And keeping that in mind, I calmed down. About five minutes later, I got off the bus and looked up and down the street, I saw the restaurant was at the end of the block, and it looked larger than I thought it would.
I walked down to the restaurant, and I could see that it was more upscale than I thought it would be. This lightened my heart and put a spring in my step. I pulled open the door and approached the young woman at the front. “Hello, my name is Adam Carter. I have a job interview with the owner. Oh, yes, Mr. Argento has been looking forward to meeting you. I’ll let him know you are here. “
I only had to wait a few minutes, and then I saw a rather rotund man with jet-black hair coming from the kitchen area. He was wearing a white apron with what looked like sauce on it. “Bonjourno, Mr. Lombardi, I am so happy to meet you. Can you tell me a little about yourself and your background?”
“Well, I have a long history of working in large Corporations. But unfortunately, my most recent employer laid me off last year along with about one-half of the staff that had been working for him for years. Apparently, he had invested a great amount of money in the wrong investments, and he lost it all. As a result, all the higher-echelon employees who earned the highest salaries were let go. I was one of them. I have spent the last six months looking for a new position with no luck due to a downturn in the economy. Or at least that is what I believe happened. If you take a look at my resume, you will see that I have always excelled at whatever challenges I face. Unfortunately, the only restaurants I ever worked at were when I worked my way through college. And as it turned out, it was an Italian restaurant. Here is a copy of my resume.”
“Yes, I can see you have many years of experience behind you. And you have done quite well for yourself. It is so unfortunate that it came to an abrupt and unfortunate ending. I would like to hire you as I can tell you are a hard-working, intelligent, and experienced man. However, I am unable to pay you the salary you have earned in the past. But, what I can offer you is an opportunity for a steady income and an opportunity to become a partner in my restaurant, which I intend to open a chain of restaurants across the North East. Here is an explanation of your pay, benefits, and a plan for expansion of this restaurant and where I plan on expanding. And what your responsibilities will be and your future with my company. Be aware that it will take time and hard work. What do you say?”
“I say thank you for offering me this opportunity, and I accept. I promise I will not let you down. And I believe we can build a strong and durable partnership. And over time, we can look forward to a bright and successful future. When do you want me to start?”
“Well, how about tomorrow at 7 AM? That is when I go to the market and purchase vegetables, fruits, meat, etc.”
“Well, I have to admit that will be a challenge. I have a lot to learn. And I will be here first thing tomorrow morning at 7 AM. I thank you so much for this opportunity. They shook hands. And the owner of the restaurant said, “Bye the way, please feel free to call me Carmen, And may I can you Toni.”
A family is eating dinner at the Pizza Parlor—part of the Utah RedRockaLypse4 North.
“Of course, I look forward to tomorrow and all the days that follow it. I’ll be here tomorrow bright and early. Ci vediamo domani come prima cosa.” (See you tomorrow first thing).
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MY PARENTS WERE THE GREATEST INFLUENCE ON WHO I AM TO THIS DAY
I take after my father in many ways. My father would squeeze a nickel until the buffalo shit. I kid you not. Now don’t get me wrong, we never went without our basic needs met. We ate well, we got new shoes every year, or whenever we outgrew the shoes we were wearing. The four youngest children in my family, which included myself, all attended Catholic School through high school.
My father worked for over forty years at SEPTA, which is the South Eastern Pennsylvania Transportation Company. He was the head dispatcher in charge of scheduling buses, trolleys, and drivers. As a child, of course, I didn’t realize the responsibility of my father’s job. I just knew that I didn’t see him every day, depending on the shift he worked. For most of my childhood, he worked on the second or third shift. And therefore, he was often asleep when I arrived home from school, and we weren’t allowed to make any noise. Because we would wake him up, and woe was he or she that woke my father up. 
In addition, my father had an active personal life outside of his job and home. He spent time at the Cherry Hill Race track, following and betting on the horses. He also played cards for money. He had friends that my mother and siblings and I had never met.
He was also a highly creative man. When I was a child, he had a workshop in our basement complete with power tools from drills and routers, planers, jigsaws, etc., etc. Our cellar was kept in pristine order at all times. My father was extremely orderly and neat. The floors and walls, and ceiling in the basement were painted white. It was so clean you could eat off the floor. He had a desk and a typewriter down there. And eventually, he added a dark room because he became interested in photography. In fact, once he won a photography contest that the Courier-post (our local Jersey paper) was running. And he won a sum of money that allowed him to take our whole family out to dinner—something we had never done before.
One year my father decided to build a fence in our front yard, and he made the front section which tuned out beautifully, but I guess he lost momentum or interest because he never finished the side sections.
Mom sitting at the kitchen table,
My father had a unique view of the world, and because of that, the things he created in the basement were one of a kind. He made a glass fireplace in our living room which was lit from within with Christmas lights. And instead of a fire burning in the fireplace, there was a mirror. And we had a chandelier hanging over our kitchen table that was a wagon wheel that he attached lights that he had purchased at the Pennsauken Mart. The Pennsauken Mart was a precursor to a Mall in that there was a large building that held many different stores within it. Oh, the treasures he found at the Mart! My father was an old fashion man in some ways since he was born in 1911. Occasionally he took me with him to the Pennsauken Mart, and I would meet some of the people that worked there whom he had befriended over the years. One of those people owned a fruits and vegetable store. And my father referred to him as the Chinaman, as if that was his name. And my father had been going to this man’s store for years.
My father liked to garden as well. He built an arbor over our front step and planted climbing red roses that grew over it throughout my whole childhood. He also planted a Lilac bush next to the front sidewalk that emitted a glorious aroma all Spring and Summer Long. At one time, he planted a rose garden in the backyard. And it was gorgeous. But, at some point, my father decided he no longer wanted roses in the backyard and mowed them all down. My mother was heartbroken. He never told her he was cutting them down. He also cut down the enormous Willow Tree we had without any warning. I remember how much I used to love to sit under that tree in the summer and read. I never understood what forces drove my father to do some of the things he did or some of the things he said to people.
House where I grew up
My father was a voracious reader as well, he was not a religious man, but he was fascinated by Eastern religions like Buddhism and Confucianism, and he studied them for years. The peculiar thing was that he never attended church or Mass even though we lived two houses down from Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church. And my mother used to go to Mass every morning. He did, however, often go to the church or rectory if they needed anything repaired. He was a complex person. I often wanted to ask him if he was an atheist. But I never did because my father did not like anyone to ask him personal questions.
As I grew older, my father started sharing some of his childhood experiences and his early adulthood with me. My father’s father died when he was quite young, and his mother struggled to survive. She ended up placing my father at Girard College, where he lived and was educated until he was sixteen. His mother was allowed to visit him once a year. At that time, Girard College was a school for young boys who had lost their fathers. I can not say how this experience of growing up in an orphanage shaped my father, not to mention losing his own father at such a young age.
Upon reflecting on my father over my lifetime, I realized that although the circumstances of our lives were different, I had developed many of the same traits as he displayed over his lifetime. I am a highly creative person who enjoyed making things from a young age. I loved to draw and make things from found materials. I like to garden, and once I learned to read in first grade, the Maple Shade library became a favorite haunt of mine. All the librarians knew my name since I came there so often that I wore out my library card. My ability to make things from bits of random things was certainly a talent that I derived either by watching my father or an inherited trait.
However, the trait that I share to this day is that I never waste anything. I use everything up. I use my creativity to create art or sew clothes, and my great love of reading inspired me to start writing stories, both fiction, and memoirs. It goes without saying that my desire to treat all people equally, my empathy for all people, and my desire to help people wherever and whenever I can from my dear mother, who never had a hateful thought in her entire life. She was the kindest, most hard-working person I ever knew.
I don’t know how many years lie ahead of me, but I hope I will not waste a single moment of it. My plan is to keep going without taking a breath and continue to do good in the world. And to continue writing, painting, and making things. And without a doubt love animals that have always given me love, acceptance, and companionship throughout my life.
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THE BEST AND WORST MOMENTS OF MY LIFE
I have arrived at that time in my life when I reflect on the most important and life-changing events I have experienced. One of the biggest challenges I have faced in recent years is acknowledging that I am no longer young and have arrived at the final years.
home in Pitman, New Jersey, 1994- 2016
Over the course of my life, I have had ups and downs. I have suffered losses, and I have experienced successes. At the end of May, I will be celebrating my seventy-second birthday. I often find myself wondering how time passed so quickly. I can say that I have few regrets about my decisions and choices.
When I graduated from high school, I found a job as a dental assistant through my school counselor. Back in the day, in the ‘70S, dentists hired inexperienced young women and then trained them to be chairside assistants who ran the office, answered the phone, made appointments, and confirmed appointments. In addition, I developed the xrays and was responsible for sending out the bills and cleaning the office. Occasionally I even babysat the dentist’s children.
I was given a great deal of responsibility for an eighteen-year-old girl. But as it turned out, I proved myself to be highly efficient at running the office. And I enjoyed working there for a number of years. I worked for Dr. E. G. Wozniak in Haddon Township, NJ.
I was able to purchase a brand new 1970 yellow Volkswagen, rent my own apartment, and live on my own. That job taught me so much more than the skills it took to be a dental assistant. It confirmed to me that I was able to meet any challenges that came my way. I was a confident young woman from that point forward.
When I was twenty-two, I started dating my best friend’s cousin, Bob. And I decided I wanted to move to Florida, where Bob lived. We got married when I was twenty-three, and he was twenty-five. I was laid off from the insurance company the week after we came back from our honeymoon. I wasn’t able to find a job. And made the decision to go to a hairdressing school, the West Palm Beach Beauty Academy. After completing the eighteen-month program, I was hired to work at the Collonades Hotel, located on Singer Island. I did hair and facials. 
Bob decided that he wanted to attend Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara, California, two years later. Brooks was a school for Photography. We lived in California until he graduated from school three years later. My first job in California was at Robinson’s Department Store selling hats and wigs. I can not tell you how boring that job was. However, I made a friend named Terry Ropfogel, and she told me there was a residential school, St. Vincent’s School, where she volunteered. She told me that they were looking for full-time childcare workers. I loved little kids, so I applied for a job. I kept calling them once a week until they agreed to interview me for a job. I was hired shortly thereafter.
Working at St. Vincent’s turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life. The kids were mildly retarded, and some of them had behavior problems. I must admit that I came to love them like they were my children when Bob graduated from Brooks three years l after we decided to move back to the Philadelphia, New Jersey, area. I wanted to move to the New York City area because I believed Bob would be able to get a job as a photographer there. Bob decided he wanted to buy a house, and he got a job as an electronics technician. And at that point, we purchased a house with the assistance of the Veteran’s benefits that Bob earned while he was in the Navy.
Picture of me and one of my co-workers Stacy Smitter at St. Vincent’s School in California
A year later, Bob and I had our first child, Jeanette. by then, we had been married for seven years. Three years later, I had a second daughter, Bridget. I had always loved kids and wanted to be a mother. And it turned out to be one of my most challenging life experiences. We lived in that small, three-bedroom house in Pennsauken, New Jersey, for thirteen years when our children were young.
My parents passed away eight months apart in 1986 when my children were five and two years old. My dad had lung cancer, and my mother passed away from a complete respiratory and coronary arrest. My mother told me before she passed away that she didn’t regret any of the decisions she had made during her life but only regretted all the things she hadn’t done. Her words had a profound effect on me. The year after she passed away, I decided that I would go to college, which I didn’t have the opportunity to do when I was of college age since I had to get a full-time job when I graduated from high school.
And so, I prepared a portfolio of my artwork and applied to the Hussian School of Art and the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia. I was accepted at both schools. But, I made the decision to attend the Temple Tyler School of Art because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year and financial aid for the second, third, and fourth years.
Tyler School of Art
And so, at the age of thirty-six, I began college as a Freshman, the only adult student. The rest of the Freshman students was seventeen or eighteen years old. Some of them hadn’t even gotten their driver’s licenses yet. I could write an entire book about my art college experience, and perhaps I will someday. Needless to say, it was a challenging and sometimes difficult four years. I graduated Summa Cum Laude at the age of forty with teaching credentials. My class stood up at graduation and clapped when my name was called out as a graduating senior. I have to say going to college was probably the best choice I ever made. And although it was challenging, to say the least, I never regretted it for a single moment. My children were ten and seven when I graduated.
After graduation, I applied to every elementary, middle, and high school for an art teacher position. Unfortunately, it turned out that the New Jersey public schools were eliminating the art programs in their schools, and I wasn’t able to find a public school teaching position.
After about a year, I realized I could create my own private art school. And my husband and I started looking for a house that could accommodate our family and several rooms to be used for my art classes. And after several months of looking at residences, I found a house in Pitman, NJ, that had been owned by a neuropsychologist that had been empty for several years since his passing. After several months we were able to purchase it. It had been empty for several years, and we spent the first several; years repairing it and had to put a new roof on it. We lived there for twenty-four years. And I taught art there for many years to kids from four through high school and adults in the evening. Overall it was a wonderful experience, and I met and befriended many of the people who lived in Pitman while teaching there.
When we were ready to retire, we spent the last year we lived there preparing the house for sale. We loved that house so much, and it was difficult to leave it, but it was necessary to sell it since we couldn’t afford to keep it after we both retired from working.
We chose to retire to North Carolina and bought a house about forty-five minutes from Raleigh, NC, in Willow Spring. We have been living here for seven years. During those seven years, I have been doing volunteer work in the Guardian ad Litem in the NC Court. The Guardian Litem are citizens that volunteer to investigate at-risk children and make decisions about their care and where they should live if there is a problem within their homes. And in addition, for the last seven years, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary caring for Parrots, Macaws, and Pheasants. The sanctuary is called Animal Edventure, and it is located in Coats, NC. I have always loved animals, and it seemed a perfect match for me at this time of my life. 
In addition, five and a half years ago, I started this blog and write short stories and memoirs for WRITE ON. I write one new story a week. I also continue to create my artwork in my free time. Who knows what the future holds for me? I am a person with a high energy level, and I hope that in the future, I will continue to contribute in some way for the rest of my life. I can not imagine not doing so. I have always had the desire to do good in my life and be kind to the people I met along the way. I can not imagine wanting to do else wise.
So, here we are, living out our lives in North Carolina. Our youngest daughter lives with us. And although the last several years have been challenging because of the pandemic and inflation, we keep moving forward from one day to the next.
I can not say what lies in my future and that of my family, but I hope my good health will continue, life will give us challenges to meet, and we will succeed in all our endeavors.
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SOMETHING TO DO,SOMETHING TO LOVE, SOMETHING TO HOPE FOR
I have been looking forward to this day for over a month. I have been working for over six months straight with no day off. It’s true I had earned time and a half pay, but still, you can only work so much, and then your mind and body say, “that’s enough.”
My job at Pratt and Whitney required absolute attention to every detail. Our company has invested heavily to bring our company into the next century. Presently Pratt & Whitney is a world leader in designing, manufacturing, and servicing aircraft and helicopter engines and auxiliary power units. There is a high demand for our products. I am responsible for making sure our success continues. My job is a difficult and demanding one. I must admit I really need a break because of the constant pressure at my workplace. And finally, I see there is a light at the end of the tunnel since my department head has given me the go-ahead to take a week off with pay.
Now you may or may not be wondering what a person like myself does for fun. You probably think I spend my whole time solving complex mathematical problems that heretofore haven’t been solved by anyone. But no, nothing like that. But you must promise not to share my secret with anyone else. So, mum’s the word. My secret hobby, if you want to call it a hobby, I call my raison d’etre. Or, as some less extraordinary person might call it, their reason to live.
Do you think you can guess what it is??? I know you never will, so I will let you in on my secret pastime. On my day off, I go to all the thrift shops within thirty miles of where I live. And I search through all the coats, pants, and jacket pockets. I make sure that I try on all the coats and jackets that have designer names. And if I have the time, I go through the pockets of all the pants, jackets, and coats. You probably think that this is a complete waste of time. But, you would be wrong, so wrong.
Allow me to illustrate why checking all the pockets of high-end clothing is not a waste of time. The reason is that people who buy expensive clothing often stash money and jewelry in their pockets and often forget about them. And after wearing something for a while, these wealthy people decide it’s time to donate their old clothing and buy new. I know if you are anything like me, you can’t imagine being so self-indulgent and wasteful. Let me illustrate with examples all the money and jewelry, including silver and gold pieces that I have found in the pockets of clothing.
One day I was at a thrift store outside of Tampa on the main highway. I used to go to this shop at least once a month because many of the people that donated high-end clothing were employed as Management Executives and highly paid techies. They often replaced their wardrobes quite often because they interacted with many wealthy people during their work days. And they couldn’t afford to be seen wearing that same blue or black suit week after week, and that including women and men.
The week before a big corporate meeting, I decided to stop by one of my favorite haunts, a thrift Shop called It’s All Good. I found a three-piece woman’s suit with a vest to match. And I was lucky enough to find a white silk blouse, all for less than fifty dollars.
I tried it on in the changing room at the thrift store, and it fit like a dream. It looked like it was made for me. I decided to have it dry-cleaned. When I arrived home, I tried it on again. And I put my hand in the pocket of the vest, and I found a fifty-dollar bill. When I pulled it out of the pocket, I almost passed out. I never really ever had any good luck.
I took this as a good omen. My luck was changing for the better. So, I adopted a more optimistic point of view. I felt like the meeting was going to be a success, and more would follow. The corporate meeting was going to last three days at a nearby hotel. I decided I better find at least one more suit to wear and another blouse. I didn’t want anyone to think I only had one suit to my name. So, the Saturday before the corporate meeting, I stopped at the thrift shop. And I found they had acquired a new selection of woman’s high-end business wear. I was thrilled, to say the least. While I was there, I found a knee-length leather coat in my size that was to die for. I snatched it up and took it into the dressing room. And the suit and the leather jacket fit like a dream, like they were made for me.
When I arrived home, I took my bounty out of the bag and looked it over. I decided that first thing tomorrow morning, and I would take it all to be dried clean and get it freshened up. I decided to look through the pockets in the vest and the jacket, just in case. And I found a leather wallet in the inside pocket of the vest that I hadn’t noticed before. And unbelievably, it had five one hundred dollar bills in there. I couldn’t believe my eyes. This was my lucky day, and I had no doubt that I would have more good luck in the future.
That week I felt so buoyed up by my run of good luck, I felt like the Corporate meetings were going extremely well, and I felt highly motivated to keep on top of things and keep my good luck going in the right direction. And then, it occurred to me that I have had lots of luck in my career, but there has also been a lot of hard work. In other words, yes, I had a streak of good luck, but perhaps my strong work ethic and years and years of preparation are what was the cause of my good luck.
The last day that we were meeting, my boss came over to me and said, “Jeanette, I want to give you a little advance warning during the lunch meeting. You are going to be called up to the dais. Because of all your hard work and skill, you are getting promoted to vice president of the sales department. So, you need to be prepared to say a few words. Congratulations, you deserve every bit of your success. I know you are somewhat superstitious and believe in luck. But the truth is hard work and dedication are what has taken you to this point in your career. I have no doubt that you will have more success in the future.”
I was so flabbergasted by my boss’s kind words that I stood there momentarily like the cat got my tongue. I finally snapped out of it and said, “Thank you, Mr. Cooper. Your kind words mean more to me than I can say. I promise I will continue to give all the energy I have to our continued success.”
“ I have no doubt that you will do just that, Jeanette, none at all. Now take a deep breath and prepare for the great future that I do not doubt is waiting for you.”
My boss shook my hand, and I went back to my seat and took a deep breath. I felt a smile spread across my face, and I looked around the room at my fellow employees. I realized that it was the hard work and long days and nights that I devoted to my responsibilities, not good luck, not a new suit. It was me. And I felt that I would indeed have a great life and future ahead of me. And I would live one day at a time and plan for my future.
I knew I probably wouldn’t have to shop at thrift stores anymore, but I would most likely continue to do as I considered it yet another challenge to dress well without spending all my earnings on clothes.
As I sat there at my table, I reached into one of my jacket pockets to get a tissue, and low and behold. I felt a folded-up piece of paper. I looked at it closely, and it was handwritten, not apparently from the original owner of the suit that I was presently wearing. The writing was a beautiful handwritten script. It said, “to the new owner of this beautiful suit, my wish for you in your life is happiness, contentment, and appreciation of all the good things in life. Keep in mind that material things add to our happiness, but they do not ensure it. You should look for your happiness to come from being kind and generous to the people you come in contact with over the course of your life. Do not be blinded by the accouterments of life. Recognize what things bring you true happiness and contentment throughout your days. They are family, friends, good health, home, your pets, a good night’s sleep, a job that you enjoy, a clear conscience, and beautiful music.
I knew I couldn’t have said it more beautifully. That is truly what makes us happy and content in our lives. Yes, nice clothes and all the other things that we enjoy in life are nothing compared to our friends, our families, and the things that bring us joy and make us feel fulfilled.
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NEVER JUDGE A BOOK BY IT’S COVER
As a child, I had a highly active imagination. Every day I would come home and regale my family at dinner time with stories about my daytime activities. I realize now that my family didn’t always believe my stories, but nonetheless, I continued. I have to admit that, at times, I may have exaggerated my stories. But, in fact, there was always some truth.
White rabbit with pink eyes
One night as we all sat down to eat our dinner, I said, “I saw a strange-looking lady walking down the street?”
One of my older sisters moaned and said, “oh no, here we go again, and they all rolled their eyes. I knew this meant that they weren’t going to believe a word I said. But I said, “it’s the truth. This afternoon I was sitting on the front step, and I saw a woman walking down our street. She had just gotten off the public bus on the corner of Main Street. And she walked in the direction of our house. I wanted to say “hello, so I walked down our front sidewalk and started playing hopscotch on the sidewalk closest to the street. When she was about to come near me, I looked at her and said, “hello.”
That is when I realized that she was kind of different looking. She had a young face, but her hair and eyebrows were completely white. And the strangest thing of all was that she had pink eyes, not blue, not brown or black. Her hair wasn’t blond like mine is. It’s white, like snow.”
“Oh, come on, Mom, you know that this is a completely made-up story. A young woman with white hair and eyebrows and PINK eyes.”
My mother said, stop making fun of your sister, she just has an active imagination. It’s not lying. She’s just telling a story.”
I got really mad at my sister because she was always telling everyone that I lied. But I don’t lie. I like to tell stories about what happens to me every day when I’m outside. And besides, the lady told me her name was Barbara. and that she at the end of our street in the house that has the apartments upstairs. And she works in a building in Philadelphia. I asked her what she did, and she told me that she types. And then she said, I better get home because I live with my mother, and she’s sick, and I have to cook her dinner. I asked her what she was making for dinner, and she said baked macaroni. I told her that was one of my favorite dinners. And she said she would save some for me and drop it off when she got home tomorrow.”
My other sister, said, “oh boy, that’s one of biggest whoppers she ever told. A young woman with white hair, white eyebrows, and pink eyes. Maybe she is part rabbit or something. My friend, Christine had a white rabbit with pink eyes.” And that is when everybody looked at me and started laughing. And that is when I decided I wasn’t going to tell anyone in my family my stories. And my mother said, “leave the child alone she just has a wild imagination, and that’s a good thing.” Everyone looked at me and that at my mother and laugher. My father said, “that enough.”
The next day I was sitting on my front step, waiting for my new friend to come down the street. And sure enough, a few minutes later, she just got off the bus. And she was carrying something in her hands. As she walked up towards me, she called out, “hello, I was hoping you would be here. I brought you a surprise. Remember I told you I would bring you some of the macaroni and cheese? Well, here it is, and it was really delicious. I hope you like it.”
“You did. Oh, thank you so much. I can’t wait to eat it. I told my family about you, and they said, that I made you up because I have a wild imagination. I told them how you had beautiful white hair and that you had pink eyes. But they didn’t believe me.”
“Oh, they didn’t well when you give them some of my macaroni and cheese. You tell them that said, hello and I hope they like my casserole. I will look forward to seeing you again if you are outside when I get off the bus. I was telling my mother last night that I had made a new friend. And she was happy for me, you know you can never have enough friends in life. Life would be empty if we didn’t have friends, wouldn’t it?” By the way, what is your name? I forgot to ask you?” And you can tell your family my name and tell them I have something called Albinism, and that is why my eyes look pink, and I have white hair.”
Just then, I heard my mother call my name. My name is Susan, but my daddy calls me Susie-Q. You can call me that. Because you’re my special friend.”
“Well, thank you, Susie-Q, that’s the nicest thing anyone ever said to me. And you‘re my special friend too. I hope you enjoy the macaroni. I’ll see you tomorrow. I look forward to it. Maybe you can ask your mother if you can walk me home sometime. I get lonely walking by myself.”
“Really, I would like that. I’ll ask my mom tonight at dinner. And that is exactly what I did, but my mother said, “well, maybe tomorrow I should wait outside with you so I can meet your new friend. Would that be alright?”
“Sure.” And that next afternoon, I was so excited about seeing my new friend that I went out there right after I got out of school at 3 o’clock. So, I had to wait a long time. Then I saw her getting off the bus, and I ran into the house to tell my mother. My mother said, “hold your horses, Susan. I’ll be right out.
And just as Barbara was out in front of our yard, my mother came up the sidewalk and said, “hello, I’m Susan’s mother. She has been so excited about me meeting you. Thank you for being so kind to my daughter, and the macaroni was delicious. I brought your dish back. And as a thank you, I filled it with my special Tuna Fish surprise casserole. I hope you like it.”
“Well, thank you. This has been a great week for surprises. I made a new friend. And now I don’t have to cook dinner tonight. Well, I better be on my way. My mother is probably looking out the front door for me. She’s alone all day, and she doesn’t get out very much.”
“Really well, she is welcome to come down and visit me anytime. Right now, I’m a stay-at-home mom. My husband sleeps all day because he works at night at the Callohill bus depot in Philadelphia. He is the head dispatcher.”
“Really, I walk right by that depot when I leave my job, and I take the bus home. That’s a coincidence. Maybe I’ll stop by and introduce myself one day. What’s his name? His name is Hugh, everybody knows him at the bus depot. And my name is Marie. And you already know our Susie-Q.”
“So, Susan, it was my lucky day when I met you. I made two friends.”
“Mom, can I walk Barbara to her house? I promise I’ll come straight back. I won’t be late for dinner.”
“Alright, Susan, but come right back, or you’ll be late for dinner, and you know that’s a no-no at our house. It was great meeting you, Barbara. I hope Susan doesn’t talk your ear off. She does love to tell her stories.”
“OK, mom, I’ll be right back after I walk Barbara to her house. I won’t be late.”
And that is how I met my new best friend. And every day after that, I would wait on my front step for Barbara to get off the bus on the corner, and then I would walk her home. Sometimes, she gave me some homemade cookies to take home to my mom and sisters. And one day, she asked my mother if it would be alright if I came to her house to have dinner with her and her Mom.
And a week later, I walked with Barbara to her house, and I had dinner with her mother and Barbara. And we had my favorite dinner, hot dogs and beans. And Barbara had made my favorite chocolate chip cookies.
It’s like my mother always said, “don’t pick a book by its cover. Or you’ll never know what treasure you will miss.
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LIFE ISN’T ALL IT IS CRACKED UP TO BE
Life isn’t always easy, is it? At least, that has always been my experience. My troubles began when I was a little girl. I know that was a long, long time ago, but it still affects my everyday life. Let me explain, one day, and I was out on my front sidewalk. I was about seven years old at the time. I was playing hopscotch with my best friend, Jo Ann Mortimer.
Anyway, it was my turn, and I began by singing the part that says, “step on a crack, break your mother’s back.” And at just that point in the rhyme, I tripped and stepped on the crack and fell. I really got a big scape on both of my knees at the same time. And I started crying, and I guess I’ve always had a low threshold for pain. All the other kids started laughing and making fun of me, calling me a “crybaby.” I got even more upset because they were calling me names. So, I started crying even louder, and everyone started laughing at me. I got up from the sidewalk and ran home. I was only three doors down from my house. But I cried all the way home.
When I was out in front of my house, I saw my mother on the sidestep. And that is when I really started crying full blast. For some reason, whenever I got hurt playing outside, the sight of my mother took me to another level of hysteria. My mother looked up in alarm, and she started coming down the steps to intercept me, and she tripped and fell down the four remaining steps, and then she didn’t move.
I ran as fast as I could to get to my mother. But when I ran over to her, I realized she wasn’t moving at all. I called out,” Mom, Mom wake up, wake up.” She didn’t move or answer. I ran up the steps and flung open the kitchen door, and it made a loud bang as it hit the side of the railing that was on the top step. My father must have been sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast along with two of my older siblings. And he shouted,” Sally, what the hell have you done to your mother? She could have broken her neck or her back. Get out of the way.”
I stood there transfixed by my mother, who was still lying at the bottom of the steps on the sidewalk, and she was moaning and attempting to sit up. My father said, “Mary, Mary take it easy you took a fall. Move slowly. My mother then sat up, and she cried, “oh my back, my back, it really hurts.” A single tear slowly made its way down her cheek, followed by another and another. My father said Mary take your time. Let me help you get up. And then he helped her sit up and then slowly lifted her up to her feet. He said, “ OK, Mary, let’s get you in the house. Take it easy. There’s no rush.” And he slowly helped her through the kitchen door and lowered her to her chair at the kitchen table. I stood there silently, feeling such tremendous guilt and remorse. Because I knew it was all my fault because I had stepped on the crack, and now my mother’s back was broken. I cried and cried and cried.
My father said, “what the hell are you crying for?”
I said, “it was my fault because I was playing hopscotch, and I stepped on the crack, and now Mommy’s back is broken. And I renewed my crying and began wailing. My mother said, “Sally, it was not your fault I tripped and fell. Please stop crying. I’m going to be alright, “Henry, could you please go get me the heating pad and a couple of aspirin?”
“Of course. I hope she stops crying by the time I get back, and I can’t stand when she carries on like that.”
My mother said, “come here, Sally, give me a hug. Everything is fine. I’ll be right as rain in no time. Why don’t you go in and watch some cartoons? You’ll feel better in no time, and so willl I.”
And over a couple of weeks, my mother did start to feel better. My father even took her to the doctor to make sure she was alright. And my mom came into my room when she came home from the doctor. She told me that the doctor said it was just a bad bruise and a pulled muscle. And that she would be her old self in no time at all. I said, “Mom, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know that saying that rhyme could actually make you hurt your back. I promise I’ll never say it again.”
“Sally, please stop blaming yourself. It was just an accident, no more. Now go in and watch TV.”
I never brought up the subject of my mother falling down the steps again in front of my parents or my brothers and sisters. But I never for a minute forgot about it. And over the course of my childhood, I became more and more fearful. That if I said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing, I could hurt my mother or anyone I cared about. So, I knew I had to be extremely careful of all my words and actions. By the time I graduated from high school, I had transformed into a frightened and neurotic person, afraid of everything, and anything I did or said might hurt my family and my friends.
In my senior year in high school, I caught a cold, and my father told me I couldn’t stay home from school since it was my last year and to take tissues with me and take some cough medicine before I left to take the bus to school. I tried to be careful and not get too close to anyone or cough without covering my mouth. But, somehow, some way, a few days later, several girls that I went to school with were sneezing and coughing. They all knew what a germaphobe I was, and they called me a “typhoid Mary .” Because I was so afraid of everything, I mean absolutely everything, germs, steps, heights, enclosed spaces like elevators, storms, and spiders, and getting sick and dying suddenly. In other words a complete basket case. But, the worse fear I developed was social anxiety. I developed a belief that people thought I was crazy because of all my phobias and didn’t want to be around me. Of course, there was some truth in that since I was acting out of control and frightened of my own shadow at times.
On graduation day from high school, I was a complete and utter basket case. I was afraid of wearing the cap and gown that my school required. I only felt safe in my own clothes and my school uniform. The mother superior of my high school knew all about my phobias since the school had to deal with them for four years. So, she called me to her office, and she asked me, “how are you doing, Sally?”
“Well, I’m a little nervous about graduating and leaving school and getting a job or maybe going to college. I haven’t been able to decide what I want to do yet. I really don’t have a clue what I can do since there are so many obstacles in my way. And right now, I’m upset because I can’t wear my uniform under my cap and gown. I only feel safe in my uniform. I don’t want to wear a dress under the cap and gown.”
“Sally, that is not a problem. It is perfectly fine if you wear your uniform under the cap and gown. So, put that worry right out of your mind. OK?”
“Really, thanks, sister. I was so worried about that all year.”
“What else is on your mind, Sally? Have you decided to go on to college or get a job?”
“I haven’t decided. I don’t know what I want to study. Maybe I should get a job and then go to college later when I have a better idea of what I want to do. But I don’t know how to do anything, so I don’t know what kind of job I could do?”
“Well, Sally, that’s not really true. You know how to type. You’re quite proficient at it. And you are an excellent writer and have an amazing imagination. You are highly efficient and organized. You are kind and thoughtful of people. In fact, I had two employers contact me seeking a new employee, and I feel like you would be a great fit. I spoke to them about some of the issues you have with phobias. And they both felt that over time you would be able to adapt to their office environment. What do you say? Are you interested?”
“Well, I don’t know. I have trouble meeting new people sometimes, and I have difficulty learning new things.”
“Sally, you lack confidence in yourself. You have excelled in school, especially in tests. You always studied hard and were prepared for every class. Yes, you are quiet and shy. But over time, you did make friends here at school. I trust you will be able to do the same thing at a job. And later, you might consider going on to college part-time and taking some classes that you are interested in.”
“Really? You really believe I could do that?”
“ Oh, course. Are you interested in finding out about the jobs?”
“Yes, I guess so, and my dad told me I had to get a job, so I don’t really have much choice.”
“Alright then, the first job is a dental assistant job. You would be assisting the dentist chairside with his patients, developing ex-rays, answering the telephone when patients call to make appointments, setting up the dental instruments for the doctor before the patients arrive, and also, on the dentist’s day off, typing bills and sending them out to patients. The dentist assured me that he would train you to do one thing at a time and not overwhelm you with too many tasks until you were ready to learn a new skill and confident in yourself. “
“Answering the phone, oh, I don’t know. “
“ Well, you would answer the phone and tell the patient that it was the dentist’s office, and they would tell you if they needed an appointment and or to cancel an appointment. Easy, and if you didn’t know, you ask the doctor. “
“The other job is similar, only it is in a psychiatrist’s office, and you would be answering the phone, greeting the patients, and transcribing the doctor’s notes. Not exactly rocket science. And you are a highly structured young woman and smart, and you learn quickly. You will gain confidence over time, just as you have done here at school. Think about it for a few days or a week, and let me know. All of your teachers are more than willing to give you good references.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I have seen you grow and evolve over time. I know you still have some fears and phobias, but I believe that over time you can over overcome these difficulties. And do you know that everyone has situations where they are frightened. Over the course of our lives, sometimes bad things happen, but we can overcome our fears, and we can move forward in our lives, one step at a time. What do you say? Are you ready to take that next step forward into your future? I have every confidence in your ability to succeed.”
“Well, I’m not sure, but I will do my best. Thank you for believing in me..”
“ That’s great, Sally. Take one step forward at a time, one day at a time. Now let me give you the phone number of the two potential employers. I know they are looking forward to hearing from you as soon as possible.”
Sally slowly looks up and smiles shyly at the principal, and said, “yes, one day at a time.”
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BROKEN HEART, A MEMOIR
It was June of 2007, and I was fifty-six years old. I hadn’t been feeling myself. I began feeling short of breath when I went up the steps or had to carry anything heavy. And then I began having pains that ran up and down my arm and under my chin. I tried to ignore it for as long as I could.
Set Lines heartbeat normal, arrhythmia and ischemia. Line cardiogram heart on white background. Vector illustration. electro-cardiogram
The symptoms got worse, and I decided that I needed to go to the doctor and find out what was going on. I went to my primary doctor for a check-up, and she recommended I go to a Cardiac specialist. She gave me a referral to a cardiologist Dr. Fox. He checked my blood pressure and weight and asked for my family history. I told him that my mother had congestive heart failure and she had died at the age of seventy-six from complete respiratory and cardiac arrest.
He arranged for me to have a cardiogram and echo, an electrocardiogram, and a cardiac catheterization at the Our Lady of Lourdes Hospital in Camden, NJ. When I returned to the heart doctor’s office to hear the results of the tests, he informed me that I had heart failure and that the left side of my heart was enlarged. He put me on a low dose of blood pressure medication and cholesterol medication. He advised me to come back in six months. He believed my heart failure was due to long-term untreated high blood pressure. I assured him that I had never had high blood pressure, but he insisted that I did. He told me to schedule a visit in one year to repeat the tests.
A year later, I was feeling worse, and he stated that he was going to repeat all the tests and see what changes had taken place in my heart. I told him that I wasn’t coming back since I didn’t believe he had done anything to improve my heart issues, And I wanted to take copies of my test results when I left the office that day. I was extremely upset over his lack of concern for my well-being.
Doctors diagnose human heart
I spent the next several weeks looking for a new cardiologist and was finally referred to Dr. Drachman in Cherry Hill, NJ. After my visit with Dr. Drachman and his cardiac nurse, Sandy Soloman, I was told that my former doctor hadn’t even put me on a dosage of medication that would have affected any improvement. And so first he was going I was going first to have an echocardiogram, and then he was going to put me on a beta blocker and a higher dosage of blood pressure medication. He wanted me to return to his office every three months to see him as he slowly titrated the levels of the heart medication. As I was going out of his office, I asked him what my outcome was going to be. He looked at me and said, you have congestive heart failure. You may live another five years. But, it was possible that with proper treatment, I could live longer. I would have to follow his medical advice. He couldn’t guarantee how long I might live, to take it one day at a time.
His words hit me like a blow. I really had no idea how seriously ill I was. Dr. Drachman diagnosed me with congestive heart failure, a weakened heart valve, and cardiac insufficiency. In fact, the left side of my heart was enlarged and had been for some time. I was shocked, to tell the truth, I had just turned fifty-seven years old. I had been a vegetarian for over twenty-five years. I had worked out at a gym for years. And I walked several miles every day at the park every morning.
He told me to stop lifting weights, but I could continue walking as long as I didn’t experience any chest pains. On the ride home from the doctor’s office, I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck. I couldn’t believe that I had five or fewer years left in my life. I felt I still had so many more things to do in my life. I wasn’t ready to give up. And I didn’t.
When I came home from the doctor’s office, I told my family what the doctor had said, and I have to admit I cried when I said the doctor said, “if you are lucky, you will live another five years. I tried to maintain at least the outward appearance that I was going on with my life as before, but honestly, I became quite depressed. I had difficulty accepting that I was going to die when I had done everything I could do during my adult life to be healthy. Apparently, I had inherited heart failure.
At some point, I made the decision that I was wasting what time I had left being depressed, and I tried to enjoy each day and not dwell on my illness. And over time, I started feeling a lighter spirit come to me and lift me out of my depression.
I followed my doctor’s orders and returned to his office every three months to get a check-up, and he increased the dosage of my heart medication. I was now taking five heart medications. Over time my condition stabilized, although I still had an enlarged left side of my heart. The angina pains I had experienced for about a year and a half decreased. I tried to maintain a more optimistic view of life. And filled my days with things that I enjoyed taking long walks in the park every morning, painting, and I began writing.
one of my paintings, “THE TRINITY”
As a result of having the good luck to find a doctor that cared about my well-being, I have slowly improved over time, and now I’m able to be physically active and have little or no pain. So, my husband and I began planning for our retirement, and we made the decision to move to North Carolina, where we could live in a milder climate, as cold weather in the North East had a detrimental effect on my breathing and well-being. Shortly before my husband and I retired, I received a call from Sandy Soloman, my cardiac nurse, telling me that there was a new medication available for my particular heart condition called Entresto. She strongly suggested that I start taking it. At first, I was somewhat concerned about changing my meds since I was feeling stable for the past several years. But I trusted her advice, and I began taking the Entresto twice a day, along with three other heart meds.
So, here I am, seven years later, retired and living in a quiet neighborhood in North Carolina, about a one-half hour outside of Raleigh, NC. I have been volunteering for the past seven years, three mornings a week, at an animal sanctuary. I care for parrots, Macaws, and pheasants. In addition, I began writing a blog with my original short stories and memoirs. I continue painting.
I found a new cardiologist at Duke University, Dr. Abraham, who sees me once a year to make sure that all is well with me. And so far, I am doing well and plan to continue in the same vein for as long as I can.
Hopefully, I will have many good years ahead of me. Who knows what the future may hold for me. But I look forward to whatever surprises lie in my path with anticipation. So fear not. Do not ever give up on yourself, no matter what difficulties you might have to face. Try to keep a positive outlook on your life and your future, and never give up on yourself. You never know what strength lives within you until you are tested. Do not give up because you may have to encounter some bumps along the way. And I look forward to celebrating my 72nd year on this planet on May 24th of this year.
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