Author Archives: Susan

I AM WHAT I AM AND THAT’S ALL THAT I AM- QUOTE BY POPEYE

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As I look back over my life, I often wonder what experiences shaped the person I’ve become. And I have to say it wasn’t any one experience or factor. It was a combination of many interpersonal experiences, including those who were part of my life and those who passed through it. I admit that genetics certainly played a part in this as well.

Certainly, each of my parents had a major influence on my developing personality, and my siblings and extended family affected my development as well. I and my fraternal twin were the last children to be born into my family. Well, that’s not completely true. My mother gave birth to two twin boys two years after my sister and I were born. They were named Steven and Girard. Unfortunately, they were born prematurely and only lived a short time.

As a result, my family consisted of my mother, my father, one older brother, and five sisters, of whom my twin and I were the youngest. We were born in May of 1951. My sister and I were were fraternal twins not identical.. We were born seven minutes apart. I, however, have no memories of these events. I have few memories of my early childhood. I recall when my sister and I started attending elementary school at our Lady of Perpetual Help School in Maple Shade, New Jersey, a small town about twenty-five minutes drive from Philadelphia, PA.

We were in the same first-grade classroom, and no one realized we were related, let alone twins. Since we did not resemble each other in any way. I was somewhat on the small side, and Karen looked at least a year or so older than I. In addition, I was shy, and my twin was more outgoing. And there was also the fact that my twin wasn’t particularly fond of me and avoided interaction with me at school. Whenever we were together, we would argue and fight. I don’t recall what we fought about. But it was clear that my twin didn’t want to spend time with me in school or at home. We both had our own friends. And never played together when we were at home.

The facts of the matter are that although we attended Catholic School together in the same classrooms for eight years. My sister made every effort to ignore that I was her sister, in fact, she continued with this behavior throughout highschool. In recent years, I asked her why she ignored me and pretended that I wasn’t her sister for twelve years; she stated that it was because we were” both so different from one another.

We are clearly completely different from one another, as night and day. She was outgoing, while I was quiet and somewhat shy. She had a larger group of friends than I had in school. I also had friends; they were not the popular girls and boys but the clever and funny kids. I was artistic and creative and loved making and creating things. And then there was that side of me that loved animals.

After we graduated from high school at St. Mary Of The Angels Academy, located in Haddonfield, NJ, we both found employment and started working. A mailing service company hired my sister. She made progress at this company and moved up the company ladder quickly. It turned out that she had a head for business, and she did quite well for herself.

I found employment working as a dental assistant for Dr. Edward Wozniak in Oaklyn, New Jersey. I worked six days a week, several nights a week, and Saturdays. My personality was a plus for this position because I realized that I enjoyed interacting with adults and children. And I was highly organized and efficient. I learned how to be a chairside assistant and what dental instruments to use with each procedure. I developed the xrays. And answered the phones and made appointments. I had always been a neat and orderly child, and I wasn’t even aware I had these skills until I started working. I began to understand on a personal level that I was intelligent, organized, and had the ability to comfort people who were in pain or nervous about dental work. And that applies to working with young children as well as adults.

As time passed, Karen moved up the corporate ladder and made a good income. I continued to work for my dentist, and although I didn’t make much money, I could buy myself a brand new 1970 Volkswagen. After a few years, I moved out of my familial home and rented an apartment in Haddonfield, NJ.

By this time, I was working at the Ellis Brother’s insurance company selling High-Risk Auto Insurance to people who lived in Camden, NJ area. The company was owned by Harry and Evie Ellis on Haddon Avenue in Collingswood, NJ. Two other young women were working with me as well. And I found that I enjoyed working with them so much. Previously I had worked by myself at the dentist office. We had fun together, and the Ellis Brothers turned out they didn’t have any real work ethic. And they enjoyed taking us girls out for breakfast or lunch. It was a good experience for me.

About this time, my best friend, Joanie’s cousin, came to visit her after leaving the Navy Reserves. Joan asked if I was interested in going out with him. And I said,” Yes.” That was the beginning of a whole new chapter in my life. Bob and I went out, and we clicked. I kept in touch with him after he returned to Florida, where his family lived. I kept writing to him, and eventually, I moved to Florida, and the rest is history. Bob and I were married in 1974. And we have been together ever since. This July, we will be celebrating our fiftieth anniversary.

Our marriage has not been perfect. And most people who have been married for a long time will tell you the same. There are ups and downs. We have two grown daughters now. They are both artists in their own way and are intelligent women with minds of their own. My older daughter lives in Philadelphia with her husband of eighteen years and their cats. Oh, yes, we all have an affinity for cats. However, I have to admit that I love all animals. And presently, we have a cat, four parrots, two love birds, and six finches. And last but not least two dogs a long-haired daschound and a St. Charles Cavelier Spaniel who we adopted two years ago.

Somehow, ten years have passed since we retired. However, I have kept busy. For the first year, I worked with the Guardian Litem in the NC family court. This turned out not to be a good match for me. So, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary, Animal Edventure, for the last eight years in Coats, NC. I care for parrots, Macaws, and pheasants. I have always loved animals since I was a child. But birds have always been one of my favorite creatures on this planet.

I will turn 73 in May and still have a high energy level, so I don’t know what else I might do. But I know it will be something that helps people and or animals in some way. In addition, I will continue writing my short stories, and at some point, I will publish the book I have written. Until then, friends, keep busy and work hard. And care for yourselves. Do not let age stop you from accomplishing your goals. And don’t let people tell you are too old to do anything. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, and move forward. Don’t take any steps backward.

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LIFE’S HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

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I arrived at that point in my life when I found myself reflecting on my life. Recently, I have considered what people influenced my development and personality the most. I believe my mother and my father certainly had the most influence on my personality and character development.

I grew up in the small town of Maple Shade, New Jersey. I spent the first twenty years of my life there. I had a fraternal twin, and three older sisters and one brother. There was an age gap between us. My oldest sister, Jeanie was thirteen years older, my brother was nineteen years older and my other two sisters are seven and eight years older than me. It was a busy household when I was younger, but over time, my older siblings grew up and married, moved to their own homes, and had families of their own. 

I believe that my father and my mother had the most influence on the person that I became over time. My mother was a deeply religious woman who attended Mass every day of her life and in the afternoon she spent at least an hour saying the rosary. My father was the authoratarian he set the rules for the family and worked hard every day of his life. But he also had his own life outside of being a father and a husband. My father liked to play the horses and play cards with his friends. He worked hard every day of his life and often held a second job to support our family.

My two older siblings attended public schools, but my twin and I attended Catholic School. So, Catholic schools and the Catholic Church had a great influence on our belief system.

This is me when I was a toddler.

This was me when I was a toddler.

Yes, to some degree, twelve years of Catholic School did influence my personality and my behavior to some extent when I was a child and adolescent. Still, once I graduated from high school and started working, I was exposed to people with different beliefs and experiences from those I had as a child. And over time the somewhat narrow beliefs of my childhood were overhadowed by working with different types of people some of whom had completely different beliefs. I do believe that having experienced twelve years of Catholic School influenced what I believed was right and what was wrong. But, over time although I had strong beliefs I became less narrow minded.

My parents were hardworking people their whole lives. And I never heard a single complaint from either one of them. My father grew up in an orphanage and because of his childhood he didn’t really learn how to express his love or emotions. He often grew angry, but he wasn’t one to come over and give any of us a big hug, nor did he ever tell me he loved me. And I believe I knew he loved me at some level but could not express it. Other than working hard and providing for all of our needs.

My mother also showed her love in her own way but wasn’t a hugger either. I remember going over my girlfriend Joan’s house and I often saw her being hugged by her mother. And it made me feel like my mother didn’t care about me. One day, I came home and told my mother, “I wish you were like Joan’s mother. She always hugs her and tells her she loves her.” My mother told me years later, that they was the most hurtful thing anyone ever said to her.” Life is hard. We all make mistakes as parents at times.

As children, we often learn through examples rather than words. Words can build a child up or knock them down. My parents taught us to work hard and do our best through their example. My mother taught me kindness through her actions and concern for my well-being. My mother worked hard all the days of her life, starting from her own childhood. When she was the only girl in a large family and her mother had Lew Gerigs disease and she had to feed and take care of her brothers and her mother. She didn’t really have the opportunity to have a childhood. I remember that she was given a beautiful doll with real hair that she could comb and style one Christmas. And every year her parents would take the doll to have it’s hair styled for Christmas. My mother cherished that doll since it was the only toy she had.

My father’s child hood experiences were even more difficult his father died when my father was quite young. And his mother had to support him, she wasn’t able to keep him at home and work, so she arranged for my father to live at Gerard College in Philadelphia until he was seventeen years old and could go to work. My father didn’t have any siblings. My father was highly intelligent, working all his life to care for our family. And yet, he still managed to have a personal life that for the most part we were unaware of while we were young. It wasn’t until I was older that I became aware of my father’s interest in horse racing, and gambliing. I have to say it didn’t have any negative effect on my childhood. But, I can not say that it didn’t affect my mother, who was often left to care for the children with very little assistance from my father. In addition, my mother did not have a social life outside of going to church every day and being part of the altar-rosary society at the Catholic church we attended. She rarely went out. My father always did the food shopping and made all the decisions, including buying kitchen curtains, the clothes on our backs, etc. As far as I know, my father never asked for her opinion.

I have often considered what kind of effect my father’s and mother’s relationship had upon myself and my siblings. I can only speak for myself in that I knew that I would never marry a man who didn’t allow me to have my thoughts and beliefs, who thought women should not be included in decision-making. I decided early on that when I grew up I would decide what I would do with my life and that no man, father or husband would be deciding anything for me. And I can truthfully say that is exactly how I have lived. I will be married fifty years in July, and I have always, always made my own choices. When I was twenty I moved out of my parents house and got an apartment alone. This had been unheard of in my family up until that time. Since, all of my older siblings got married and then moved out of my parents house.

Tyler School of Art, Temple University. I attended four years of school and graduated when I was forty with two degrees and teaching credentials.

I have lived in New Jeresey, Florida, and California and now live in North Carolina. We had two children who are grown now, and both are artists. I didn’t ask my parents if I could move out; I decided on my own and then just set about doing it. When my children were still young I decided to go to college, and in fact applied to three art schools in the Philadelphia and after preparing a portfolio I was accepted at all three schools. I was thirty-six at the time, I graduated at Temple Tyler School of Art when I was forty years old, the only adult student. I got a standing ovation when my name was called out. I graduated cum laude with a 4.0 average. My husband and children attended my graduation, along with two siblings.

When I graduated from school I realized after applying to all the public elementary schools in the area that art was no longer being funded and art teachers had no place to go. And so, after giving it much thought I discussed with my husband the possiblility of purchasing a larger house and opening up a private art classes for children and adultss. And we found such a house in Pitman, New Jersey. A neuropsychologist had previously owned it. But, had been empty for eight years. We purchased the house and spent twenty- four years living there. I taught children in the afternoon and adults at night for many years. I called it The Art Room.

I have found through my own experiences that I could accomplish many things once I set my mind to it. I know what I am able to do. I know my limits, and I don’t let anyone tell me what I can or can not do in my life.

At this point, I find that I have reached what may very well be the final years of my life. No one knows exactly when that will be, but I know I will continue learning and growing as long as I have breath in my life. I will create art and write short stories and who knows what. Maybe I will surprise myself with my next pursuit. I have been writing this blog Write On for eight years. I’m considering attempting to publish a book I have written. It is called GRIND.

In addition, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary “Animal Edventure” for the past eight years since I retired. We never know what opportunites life will present to us, but I know if I set my mind to it, I can and will suceed. I believe my parents would be proud of what I have accomplished in my life so far. And more important than the my accomplishment is the fact that I always strive to be a kind and decent person willing to lend a helping hand to anyone I can along the way. Because if we can not lend a helping hand to our fellow human beings what good are we. 

I believe I have a kind heart, as did my dear mother. My father was intelligent and set his own compass during his lifetime. He didn’t allow anyone to make decisions for him. And neither do I. Life goes by quickly, so do not waste a moment on it. It is up to us as individuals to create happiness in our own lives. And to do good along the way. We should all have a generous heart and nature. And do our best along the way. Keep an open mind and a loving heart. Be kind to all the creatures with whom we share our planet. And keep in mind that we are the caretakers of this beautiful planet we occupy. And remember to “First do no harm, not to other people, animals or our planet.”

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IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

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Did you ever consider the possibility of turning back time, and what would you change if you had that capability? And did you consider how changing the past would affect the present and your future? We have all made poor choices in our lives, but others have often told us that we learn a lesson when we make mistakes. However, science has shown that we often fail to learn from past errors. Instead, we are likely to keep repeating the same mistakes.

Looking back over my life, I recognize the mistakes I’ve made along the way. In fact, I often repeated the same mistake many times over the course of my lifetime. And I’m not alone. Many people repeat the same mistake over time. I have come to a point in my life when I have made a concerted effort not to make the same mistakes I made while I was young.

Freud

When I researched this subject, I found that Freud called this the repetition compulsion: In his words, we feel a subconscious compulsion to repeat mistakes from the past. Perhaps hoping that this time the situation will work out differently, but it rarely does. Of course, there are some experiences where we learn not to repeat those mistakes. For instance, if you pick up a hot pot or pan without any protection for your hand. You are going to get burned, and the next time, our brain will remind us to use a pot holder because of the pain we originally experienced. So we will not injure ourselves again in the same way.

However, most mistakes are often repeated over and over again, regardless of the consequences. For instance, you may have a habit of hitting the snooze alarm, turning it off, and not getting out of bed. As a result, you are always late for work or a doctor’s appointment.

However, in my own life, I found that my father’s habits strongly influenced my behavior while I was growing up and continued into my adult life. My father could not tolerate being late or anyone else being late. In fact, he was always early for everything.

In addition, my father was fastidious in every task he undertook. He was a highly intelligent man with many skills, talents, and interests. He enjoyed building things. He and his friend built a house from the roof down. He accomplished this while working full-time as the head dispatcher for PTC, the Philadelphia Transit Company Bus Company. He devised the system they used for many years for the bus drivers, public buses, and trolleys. He worked at PTC for over forty years. And he became something of a legend for his intelligence and ingenuity. He was never late or took a day off.

He was creative, and for many years, he designed collages from pictures he cut out of magazines and old books. I recall he made a large piece of art from a pool tabletop. For good luck, he attached pool cues, pool balls, playing cards, dice, and a horseshoe. It hung over our fireplace for many years. My father made the fireplace out of glass blocks, and instead of fire burning at the base of the fireplace, my father cut a mirror and fit that space. At Christmas time, he put Christmas lights inside all the glass blocks.

My father- 1960's

My father, Hugh Carberry

My father held high standards in terms of being organized. For instance, he had a basement workshop holding all his tools. And not a single thing was ever left out of place. And it would behoove anyone who borrowed his tools to put them back in pristine condition in the right place. That was me, for the most part. I was always snooping through his drawers to see what was hidden away. I was always careful to put everything back where it belonged because I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of my father’s anger.

Yes, my father liked to gamble, he played cards for money, he gambled on horse races. He was not a perfect human being, but who is?

As a child who grew up under my father’s influence, I also became highly organized and neat to the extreme. I couldn’t stand anything being messy or out of place. And I have to admit I haven’t changed much over the course of my lifetime. I have a low tolerance for anything being out of place or, god forbid, messy.

I put a lot of thought into every decision I have made throughout my lifetime. I rarely asked anyone for their advice since I trusted my own judgment. I admit I’ve made mistakes over many years, but I learned from them and didn’t repeat them.

Having said that, I find myself reconsidering some of the choices I’ve made in the past, and I don’t believe I’ve made any choices or decisions that I would want to go back in time and change my choices.

I have been retired for ten years, but I’ve kept busy doing things I enjoy. In addition, I have volunteered for the past eight years at an animal sanctuary. I have always had a deep appreciation and love of animals since I was a young child. As a child, I befriended all the dogs and cats in the neighborhood. Not to mention that I used to spend hours in our backyard watching the birds fly around our house and in and out the big Willow tree that grew there. I used to sit back and watch the birds, wishing I could fly.

Over the course of my lifetime, I have lived in New Jersey, Florida, and California, and now I’ve retired to North Carolina. I don’t regret any of it. It allowed me to meet and get to know many interesting people I wouldn’t have met otherwise. I had the opportunity to experience things I wouldn’t have been able to do. I had many interesting jobs. And a few that weren’t particularly interesting. I wouldn’t change any of it.

I‘m glad I’d had the courage to live true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

Some of the things I did during my lifetime are ones I’m proud of and would never regret. I didn’t have the opportunity to go to college when I graduated from high school. I attended Temple University when I was thirty-six and graduated at forty-one. The only adult student that graduated with my class. It was a challenging experience but nonetheless wonderful. I graduated with a 4.0 average cum laude and art teaching credentials. As a result, I opened an Art School in my home in Pitman, NJ, and taught art to children, adolescents, and adults for many years until we retired.

I worked at Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ, as a counselor for adolescent boys adjudicated by the courts to reside there. I worked there for four years. The boys that lived there were from the age of seven to eighteen. It’s called a Christian facility, but in truth, it was a prison for adolescent boys. 

I worked for the Center for Family Services in Camden, NJ, for Project Cope. I visited parents who were incinerated in prisons about allowing their children to have a mentor who was a member of one of the five churches within Camden. Camden has a crime rate of 44 per one thousand residents; Camden has one of the highest crime rates in America compared to all communities of all sizes – from the smallest towns to the very largest cities. One’s chance of becoming a victim of either violent or property crime here is one in 23. Once I established a relationship with the incarcerated parent, I would explain how their children would benefit from an adult Mentor from the city in which the children lived.

Ranch Hope and Project Cope were two opportunities that I feel did the best for the people I was trying to assist in attaining a better life than their parents had achieved.

The list of jobs I’ve had over the years is long. I do not regret a single moment of any of them. I feel as if life handed me opportunities to improve myself and do good in the world. And to take advantage of every opportunity that came my way. I did just that. I have no regrets about any of my experiences. Regardless, I still look forward to whatever life has to offer me as a challenge, and I will put all my energy into succeeding in whatever that challenge entails. Life is short, live it to the fullest that’s my point of view. And always will be until I breathe my last breath. I have no regrets whatsoever. Even though I am in my retirement years, I will continue to meet any challenge that comes my way. I’ve never let fear or trepidation stop me, and I will not allow it to stop me in the coming years that remain in my lifetime.

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BECAUSE I WAS A GIRL, I WAS TOLD I COULDN’T BE A TUGBOAT CAPTAIN

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Ben Franklin Bridge, Philadelphia, and New Jersey

Kathleen grew up in the early 1950’s and 1960’s in an Irish and Italian Catholic neighborhood. Everyone in the neighborhood lived in similar houses with big backyards. The Catholic church and the Catholic School were within walking distance for all the children in our neighborhood. It was unusual for any of the Catholic kids to attend public school. But all the kids who were Christian but not Catholic attended public school. They were referred to as “The Publics” by all the Catholic kids. It was like it was some disease or something. And woe be it to any Catholic School student to be ejected from the Catholic School. And then had to attend “Public School.”
Kathleen’s family consists of a mother, a father, and five siblings. Kathleen’s siblings were all a lot older than her. In fact, her eldest siblings no longer lived at home. They were married and lived with wives and their own children. That may seem like a large family, but back in the day, all the Catholic kids had large families. Kathleen had friends in school who had up to ten children, sometimes more. When Kathleen visits one of her Catholic school friends after school, she is overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who live within the walls of their homes. Homes that were approximately the same size as her own home. It had four bedrooms, two parents and six kids. The noise level alone was overwhelming. Not to mention,, there was only one bathroom, which all of the family members had to share. So, as a result, most people only bathe once a week. I kid you not.

On the bonus side, due to the large families with lots and lots of kids, Kathleen never had a shortage of friends in the neighborhood or the town to play with after school, on the weekends, holidays, and, of course, all Summer, which was every kid’s favorite time of the year.

Kathleen’s parents never really seemed to be concerned about her whereabouts. She was told to be home by five o’clock for dinner. And in the Summer to come home when it was dark. Neither one of Kathleen’s parents ever asked her where she had been or what she had been up to. When she was going out, her mother would say, “Don’t be late. Dinner is at five o’clock.” Kathleen would be out the door and on her way to visit one of her friends in no time flat. When it started getting dark out, Kathleen would jump on her bike and head home. And yelling, “See you later, alligator. And her friends would respond, “After a while, crocodile.”

When Kathleen wasn’t busy visiting her friends, riding her bike, or roller skating, she would head downtown and visit the library, or the 5&10 Store, or the candy store. If she had enough money, she would ride her bike down to the custard stand and get a vanilla custard in a cone. Sometimes, she would stop by the vegetable stand, and the nice lady who worked there would give her a piece of fruit, or the lady who worked in the town bakery would give her a donut. By the time she made all her rounds in the downtown shops, she would be so full that when she got home to eat dinner, she wasn’t in the least bit hungry.

Her mother and father would say, what’s the matter? Why don’t you eat something?’ And Kathleen would answer I’m full. Her father would say, “What’s wrong with her? She eats like a bird.” Her siblings, who knew what she had been up to downtown, didn’t say a word. They just laughed. Her next older sister would say without fail, “Yeah, a vulture.” Her mother would say, “ OK, that’s enough, stop picking on, Kathleen. And eat your dinner.”

After dinner, Kathleen helped clear the table, and then she would have to do her homework. Kathleen had trouble with math, and her mother would help her” by giving her the answers.” But Kathleen had no idea how she got the answer. And then her father would say, “Come here, I’ll show you the right way to do it. But his way was completely different than what she learned in school. And the more they helped her, the more confused she got.

After her homework was finished, if it were one of her father’s nights off, she would sit in the living room with him and watch Gunsmoke with him or Wagon Train or Have Gun Will Travel? They both loved the old Western TV shows. But woe be to anyone who sat in the living room and made the mistake of talking while Kathleen’s father was watching TV.

Around nine o’clock, Kathleen’s mother would say, “Time for bed, time for bed.’

Kathleen would beg to stay up later, but her mother knew if she didn’t make her go to bed now, she would want to stay up until 10 PM. And that was out of the question. So, finally, Kathleen would give in and get up, and her mother would say, “Woah, you have to go in and brush your teeth. And you know you have to say your prayers before you go to sleep.”

“Kathleen would roll her eyes and go in and brush her teeth as fast as she could. And then spit it out and drink some water. And head off to her bedroom. Her mother would yell up the steps, ” Your prayers, say your prayers.” And Kathleen would say, “Yes, Mom, yes, Mom. “ She would say a fast Hail Mary and Our Father and then bless herself and try to fall asleep as soon as possible before her sisters came in the room they shared and woke her up with all the rackett they made all the time. As Kathleen started to fall asleep, she remembered she had to get her mother to sign a paper to go on a trip to the Ben Franklin Museum. She fell asleep before she took the paper downstairs. By the next morning, Kathleen completely forgot about the permission slip.

The next day, when Kathleen arrived at school, she realized that she hadn’t gotten the permission slip signed. And she decided to run home as fast as she could and have her mom sign it. The school wasn’t that far away. But she just barely made it back to school before the morning bell rang to go to school. Katleen was out of breath. She felt sick to her stomach since she ran so fast and she had just eaten breakfast before she left for school. Kathleen sat on the school bus quietly for the whole trip from her school to the Ben Franklin Museum. She felt like she was going to throw up any minute. Finally, Sister Joseph said, “Alright, we here. Everyone slowly gets up and brings any and all belongings with them. And form one line and follow the student in front of you.

As Kathleen got off the bus, she realized that she was going to be sick, and she stepped on the sidewalk and threw up. Unfortunately, Sister St. Joseph was standing there. And she was on the receiving end of Kathleen’s upset stomach. All the kids started laughing until they saw Sister Joseph Catherine’s face. Then they immediately stopped laughing, double-timed it, and entered the double doors in front of the Ben Franklin Museum. It looked like everything would be alright until one of the boys started laughing, and before you knew it. All of the kids were laughing. Kathleen knew she was in big trouble. Sister Joseph Catherine was two-stepping it in her direction. “Kathleen, you are to stay by my side for the rest of the day; after we leave the museum, you will sit next to me on the bus back to school. Do you understand?”

I looked down and nodded yes to her, the thought of sitting next to her on the bus all the way back to school, seemed like a nightmare. If there were any way to get out of this mess, she would do it. Catherine felt a tear run down her cheek, and more followed. Catherine wiped her sleeve across her cheek. There was no way she was going to let anyone see her crying. Kathleen took a deep breath. And slowly walked toward Sister Joseph Catherine. This was going to be a terrible day. Katherine wished she had stayed home.

For the next several hours, Kathleen followed Sister Joseph Catherine all around the museum. She could barely look at the exhibits. She decided that on the next school trip, she intended to pretend to be sick. Because there was no way she was going to repeat this outing.

Kathleen’s stomach started to growl. She didn’t eat any breakfast this morning. And she was really thirsty. And then Kathleen heard Sister Joseph Catherine say,” It’s time for lunch. Let’s head back to the bus. That was the moment Kathleen realized she had forgotten to bring her lunch bag. And she didn’t have any money to buy lunch in the cafeteria.

Luckily, her best friend Helen asked her to sit next to her. When Anne Marie realized that Kathleen didn’t have lunch, she said, “No problem, you can have half of mine. My mother always packs too much lunch.” Kathleen smiled at her and said,” Thank you. I’m really starving. So, they found a table in the cafeteria and quietly ate their lunch together. Anne Marie said, “Wow, Sister Joseph Catherine really has it in for you today. “

“Yeah, I wish I didn’t even come today. She never leaves me alone.”

“Well, we had fun together, and your lunch was really good. Your mom makes great sandwiches. I guess we’ll see the rest of the museum when we’ve finished lunch. I love seeing “The Big Heart.”

“You do; I think it’s creepy, and the beating of the Big Heart makes me feel sick to my stomach. I hope the next time we go on a field trip, we do something new.”  The Big Heart

“ Yeah, your right, they should take us somewhere new.”
The next thing they knew, the sister was calling all the students to gather as they were going to leave the museum and go see some historical sites, starting with City Hall. “Alright, children, we are going to get back on the bus and head towards City Hall to see all the historical sites. I want you to pay particular attention to the speaker because we are going to have a test at the end of the week regarding that period of history.” There was a group moan from all the children. Why did the sister always ruin everything with tests after an outing?

After the visit to City Hall, the kids all got tired and bored. They had enough history in one day and just wanted to go home. And before you knew it, the tour of the City Hall was over, and they were loaded back onto their bus and headed back across the Ben Franklin Bridge and back to New Jersey. All the kids were tired, and several of them fell asleep on the ride back to school. Kathleen was one of them. And then suddenly, the bus stopped. Kathleen woke up. “What’s happening?” The bridge is up because there’s a big ship going underneath it. It’s cool. You can see it if you look out the window.

All the students were glued to the windows, looking at the open bridge and at the gigantic ship that was passing under the bridge. The kids were excited and staring out the windows. When the ship got to the other side of the bridge, all the students tried to get to the other side of the bridge. All the kids started clapping.

The next day, the students were asked to write an essay about their outing, and they all talked about their outing to the Ben Franklin Museum. Kathleen decided to write about what it was like in the Big Heart exhibit. She wrote down every detail that she could remember. Then she decided that her next favorite experience was waiting to cross the Bridge while the bridge was up and the big ship was passing beneath. She added that she decided that she wanted to grow up and be either the captain of one of those big ships or in charge of the bridge.

When Kathleen got her paper back, the teacher said she had written a good description of her experience on their outing. However, there was no way that any female was going to grow up to be the captain of a ship or man at the Ben Franklin Bridge. Her teacher said, “She should accept that girls would grow up to get married and have children, or they could become teachers or maybe nurses because that’s what girls were supposed to do.

Kathleen got so mad that her teacher said that the only thing girls would be is a mother, a teacher, or a nurse. She decided that, on that very day, no matter what it took, she was going to be the captain of a boat or be in charge of the Ben Franklin Bridge.Tugboat going under Ben Franklin Bridge, Philadelphia/ NJ

But, it wasn’t until 1968 that a woman was allowed to work as a tugboat captain in New Jersey. But, after that first woman was hired, other women did the same. Sure enough, Kathleen was one of those women to be a tugboat captain, and she crossed the Ben Franklin Bridge countless times in her lifetime as a captain of a tugboat. And she led the way for other women to do the same. And it was because of women like her that all women were allowed to work in occupations that formerly had been men only.

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A MODERN DAY FAIRY TALE

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There once was a little girl named Sally who was different in many ways from all the other little girls. She was even quite different from her four sisters. She didn’t resemble any of them in their looks or their behavior. It had occurred to her own mother that somehow she had gotten the wrong baby when she went to the hospital.

As soon as the little girl was old enough, her mother would allow her to explore her neighborhood. But first, her mother said, “ I have to teach you how to cross the street by yourself; otherwise, you could be hit by a car. And sure enough, that very day, Sally’s mother took her out to the curb on the street in front of their house and said,” Now, Sally, you have to be very careful when you cross the street. This street is very busy. So, you have to look both ways. First, you look right, then left, then right again. If no cars are coming, you can safely cross the street. Sally was a little afraid to cross the street on her own. But she was also brave and looked right, left, and right again. And there weren’t any cars coming from either direction. And so, Sally walked across the street and back again.

Her mother hugged her and said,” Good job, Sally. Remember to do that every time I woudn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Mommy, can I walk up and down our street too?”

“Yes, Sally, but always look both ways. And don’t talk to strangers, either. And don’t ever get into a car with someone you don’t know. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy I understand, look both ways, twice and don’t talk to strangers or get into cars with them. I won’t forget.”

And so, from that day forward, Sally began a life of adventures. Sally didn’t tell her mom or daddy where she went or what she did. Because they never asked, and she followed her mother’s rules. The first thing she did was to walk two houses down and visit Mrs. Collin’s house. She loved going there because Mrs. Collins had many, many cats. They came outside and strolled up and down the backyard inside a long cage that ran from the back of Mrs. Collin’s house to the end of her property. Sally knew all their names. She didn’t know for sure how many there were because they never held still for long, so it was hard to count them.

Plus, Sally hadn’t started school yet. And she wasn’t good at counting. But, nonetheless, Sally loved every one of those cats and made sure she petted each and every one of them when she went over to their backyard to visit them.

Sally had a big imagination. While she was out and about, she would make up stories. And when her neighbors would ask her what she was up to, she often told a tall tale about her adventures every day.

One day, one of her neighborhood friends came outside to play, and Sally decided to tell her a story. It was a made-up story. But her girlfriend didn’t know that. Sally went on to tell her friend, Jillian, that she was actually an alien from outer space and she had come here to take Jillian with her to her planet. Jillian began to cry at the top of her lungs that she didn’t want to go to another planet. She cried so much that Sally got frightened and said, “Jillian, I was just making pretend. I’m not from another planet; I’m not taking you anywhere.” Jillian kept crying, and Sally decided she better take her home. Sally didn’t see Jillian for another week. So, she went over to Jillian’s house and knocked on the door. Jillian’s father answered the door. And he looked very angry, he said,” What do you want? You know that Jillian is still upset by that story you told her the other day; don’t scare her again with your stories. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. I was pretending. It was a game.”

“Yes, but Jillian didn’t know you were playing a game.”

“OK, I won’t do that again. Can I please play with Jillian today?”
“Yes, but come back after lunchtime. Jillian is eating lunch.”

“OK, I’ll come back after lunchtime. Can we go Jillian and I go to the playground then?”

“Yes, do you know how to cross the street?”
“Yes, my mom taught me. I’ll hold Jillian’s hand when we cross.”

“Alright, but make sure she is home before dinnertime.”

“I will. She will be safe with me.”

Sally decided to go home and see if her mother had lunch ready since her stomach was growling. Sure enough, when she got home, she could smell Chicken Noodle Soup cooking and her favorite sandwich, grilled cheese with Lebanon Bologna, when she walked into the kitchen. Her father was sitting at the table. And he said, “Well, Sally, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, nothing. I just went over to Jillian to ask her to come out and play, and I was told to come back after lunch. So, here I am.”

“So you are. Have a seat. Here comes your lunch. And don’t gulp it down. And clear the table before you leave. Push your chair in after getting up, and then brush your teeth. Sally took a long breath after her father said all of that. And she sighed. Her father always gave her a long list of things she had to do. Sometimes, he was in a bad mood, and he would yell at her and tell her to stop talking so much because she loved to tell her mother and father about her adventures. Her older sisters always laughed at her. And said,’ Wow, she really has a wild imagination, doesn’t she?”

Her father would always say, “Leave her alone day that imagination is going to take her places. And then her older sister said, “Yeah, a nut house.” Sally’s father said, “That’s enough; don’t be mean to your little sister.”

After lunch, her mother said, “Sally, go in and brush your teeth before you go out. And wash your face, too; you have peanut butter all over it. And don’t forget to brush your teeth. Sally moaned. She hated brushing her teeth. Sally went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Her mother made her brush her teeth with peroxide and baking soda. It tasted awful. It made her feel sick. She rinsed her mouth out about five times and then did it again. Why, oh why, couldn’t she brush her teeth with toothpaste like everyone else?

Sally came out of the bathroom and asked, “Is it OK if I walked downtown to the Ben Franklin 5&10 and Rexall? I have a whole dollar saved, can I, can I?”

“Yes, but be careful crossing the streets. Do it at the red light, not in the middle of Main Street. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I’ll be careful. Can I stop at the library too? I want to get some new books?”

“Sure, that’s a good idea. Maybe you won’t spend so much time watching TV all afternoon and night.”

“Yes, Mom. I’ll see you later.”

Sally said, “See you later.” As soon as she exited the front door, Sally started running down Main Street as fast as possible. Sally loved to run; she also liked riding her bike. But she wasn’t allowed to ride it downtown because of all the traffic. Before she knew it she was in front of the Bakery. She could smell the sweet aroma of cakes, pies, donuts, and cookies. Oh, it was heaven. Sally decided to stop into the bakery and say hello to all the people who worked there. They always gave her a cookie or a donut when she stopped by because she would regale them with long stories about her adventures around town. They thought she was making it up, but she wasn’t. Sally did a lot of interesting things. Just last week, she had borrowed her older sister’s bike and road down to the next town where there was a lake. And she spent the entire afternoon walking in the water up to her knees and sitting in the sand. She just loved it there. One of the bakers, whose name was Thelma, said, “Well, what have you been up to, Sally?”

“Oh, nothing much, but I did walk all the way to the Custard Stand last week and bought myself a custard. I bought a vanilla one. It was delicious.”

“Sally, where do you get all the money to buy treats?”
“Oh, I walk all around Main Street and look for coins people drop.”

“ Well, you must be really lucky. But you better brush your teeth. Too much sugar rots your teeth.”

“I know, I know. My mother tells me that night and day.”
“Well, where are you headed now?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll take a walk to my Uncle Bill’s house. It’s not too far from here. And they always give me a snack and sometimes even a soda. And my uncle likes to draw things. He showed me how to draw a horse. And my Aunt Betty is really nice. They don’t have kids, so they like when I visit them. Sometimes, my Uncle Bill gives me a silver dollar.’’

“Well, aren’t you the lucky one?”

“Yes, I guess I am. Well, I guess I’ll be on my way. I want to go to the library and get some more books. I’m reading about dinosaurs now. I wish we still had dinosaurs.”

The people in the bakery laughed and said,” Oh, I don’t know about that. They may decide to eat you for dessert. And then she laughed; they all did. The ladies working in the bakery thought Sally was an interesting kid, always up to something. She was probably giving her mother and father grey hair before their time.

And then Sally said, “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. And before they knew it, she was out the door yelling, thanks for the donuts. And she was off to her next adventure. Sally absolutely loved her adventures. And she knew that someday when she grew up, she was going to go on even better adventures far away, maybe even to another country. And she did, when she grew up she went on many adventures far and wide, and brought home all kind of suveneirs. She spent many of her years writing stories about her adventures and even painting pictures of the places and the people she met along the way. Who knows what she will do next? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

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IS GETTING OLD A GIFT OR A CURSE

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Well, here I am, ten years into my retirement. It’s hard to believe how quickly time has flown by. But the truth of the matter is that I didn’t believe I was going to live to be this old. Because when I was fifty-six, I began having cardiac symptoms, shortness of breath, and angina pains up and down my arm. I ignored these symptoms for a short time until the symptoms got worse. And I finally made an appointment to see a cardiologist. After undergoing many medical procedures and tests, I was diagnosed with Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Which my cardiologist told me was a type of congestive heart failure. He said you are now just a cardiac patient.”

I had a difficult time accepting this diagnosis. I had been a vegetarian for sixteen years. I exercised every day of my life. I had never smoked, did drugs, or drank. Apparently, this type of heart failure was congenital, and my mother had suffered from congestive heart failure as well. She passed away in 1987 when I was thirty-six years old. The first cardiologist I went to put me through many tests but really didn’t even attempt to treat me in any way. Other than giving me a prescription for high cholesterol and high blood pressure. After going to this cardiologist for one year, I decided to look for a new doctor who might actually find a treatment that would improve my health and extend my lifespan. 

My new cardiologist, Dr. Drachman, informed me that my heart disease was at a stage at this time where I had a twenty-five percent chance of living five more years or succumbing to an unexpected cardiac arrest at any time.

You can imagine how distraught I was at that time. I certainly had never prepared myself for such an abrupt ending. I considered the options for the remaining time I had left to live. I decided to let myself be happy and fill my days with activities that let me feel jot each day. And for the most part, I was happy. Although, as with anyone’s life from one day to the next, things do not always go our way.

Blue and Gold Macaw

Blue and Gold Macaw

And I also found that there is a certain lightness in knowing you could die at any time. It made me not want to waste any time. Of course, I couldn’t avoid sadness or anger completely. However, I did decide that I would no longer interact with the people in my life, which caused me to feel bad.

As time went on, and I continued to survive, I began to have hope that I would keep on living for some time. And low and behold, a new heart medication became available, Entresto. And sure enough, this medication allowed me to live with less pain, breathe more easily, and continue living a full life without the fear of sudden death.

So, here I am, retired and living in North Carolina. We (my husband and my youngest daughter have just begun the ninth year of our retirement. I don’t know what everyone else does during their retirement, but I got busy. I took another college course so I could work with The Guardian Ad Litem in the NC family court. But, I found it was not a good fit for me. After several months of sitting for hours and hours and listening to lawyers go on and on. And parents give pathetic reasons for not taking care of their own children. It just wasn’t for me. However, many people found it to be a good fit for them.

I considered what other outlets I might find in our living area. And I decided that although I had always loved working with children. I also had a great love for animals. And I found Animal Edventure in Coats, NC and went there and was interviewed. And here I am, almost nine years later. I have been taking care of parrots and Macaws. I have always loved birds.

This is Douglas, and we adopted him from Animal Edventure when we retired

In addition, for the past eight years, I have been writing this blog, Write ON, with short stories and memoirs. It has been an eye-opening experience for me. And one that has been both challenging and enjoyable. And now I have reached the grand old age of seventy-two. The years have flown by. I don’t know my future, but I look forward to each day.

This is a photo of me writing one of the stories in my blog, Write On.

So, is getting old a gift or a curse? I would have to say that every day I live is a gift. And I’m grateful for it. I don’t know yet what lies in my future or how long I have left to live in this life. But I know that every moment is precious, and I don’t want to miss any of it. Even though I know that my life has had many ups and downs. I’m ready for the challenges and the changes. And yes, even the sameness if that is what comes down the road. I hope to live every moment to its fullest. And do good along the way, when or wherever I can.

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WITHOUT CHALLENGES YOUR LIFE IS AT A STANDSTILL

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It appeared to be an ordinary day, much unlike any other work day. I was sitting on the bench at the bus stop, waiting for my bus to Philadelphia to arrive. And it was late, really late. As far back as I can remember, that bus had never been late. I was getting nervous, I absolutely abhor being late. It just set my day off to a bad start. I began pacing up and down, looking for the bus. I thought I might go out of my mind. I hate being late for anything, let alone being late for a job I just started the previous day.  

And if that wasn’t bad enough, it was extraordinarily cold outside. There was a cold, almost frigid wind blowing, and the rain that had been steadily falling began to become hale and sleet. Everyone standing on the corner waiting for the bus let out a moan, seemingly all at once.

I heard one woman say,’ What’s next? Why does everything bad always happen to me?” I stared at her hard and said,” It’s not just happening to you. It’s happening to all of us.” She looked at me, and if looks could kill, I would be dead right now. I stared back at her. She looked away while mumbling curse words under her breath. I stood there thinking, good lord, if this is the way this day is starting, what will the rest of the day be like?

And just as I was considering going back home and calling out for work that day, I heard the woman say, “Well, it’s about damm time.” And then everyone clapped. Loudly. You would have thought they won the lottery. But no, it was just the 407 Bus that runs from Main Street in Maple Shade to Philadelphia. And we all let out a sigh of relief.

As the bus pulled over to the curb, it drove through the muck and cold water that had collected there. And low and behold, we all got a filthy, freezing cold shower. We looked at each other, and then almost as one, we sighed and got in line to board the bus. We were frozen, wet, and filthy. From head to toe. What better way to start the day, I thought. And I let out a sigh and found a relatively dry seat behind the bus driver. The bus driver was cursing under his breath. I guess he wasn’t too thrilled with all the wet, miserable, and grouchy passengers he was going to have to deal with that day.

As I sat there wet and miserable, I kept telling myself, Oh, things will get better; don’t lose hope, things will work out alright, don’t worry. This is what I tell myself every time something goes wrong first thing in the morning. It’s like I’m my own cheerleader or something. I try to be optimistic about life, but sometimes I get overwhelmed and depressed. Life is not a bowl of cherries. It is more like a bowl of jello.

Ben Franklin Bridge Philadelphia/ New Jersey

As we headed towards the Ben Franklin Bridge, I couldn’t help but notice that the traffic was slowing down to almost a snail’s pace. And that is when I noticed that the bridge was up, but I didn’t see any ships passing under the bridge at all. I wondered what the problem was. I heard the bus driver, and he was saying, “OK, folks, it looks like there’s going to be some delay on the bridge. It probably has something to do with the ice storm. So, everybody needs to settle down and calm down. There isn’t anything we can do but wait.”

At just that moment, a man who was somewhat rotund and was wearing a really worn-out-looking winter coat walked up to the driver and said, “I want to get out. I can’t sit here all day and wait. I have to get to work on time, or I’m going to lose my job.”

The bus driver looks at the man and says,” Look buddy, the bridge is all iced up, and not only that the bridge is iced up and even if the bridge were down, I wouldn’t recommend you getting out of the bus and walking across the bridge in this kind of weather. It’s virtual suicide. So, please sit down, try to keep warm, and accept what’s happening. There’s no point in going off the deep end, literally because you’re going to get seriously injured or worse. Return to your seat, now.”

The man looked at the driver as if he wanted to kill him, and then he looked out the front window of the bus and said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” And he returned to his seat, looking as if he had lost all hope.

Everyone on the bus looked at each other, and then there was a moment of silence and a loud sigh of acceptance from everyone on the bus who had accepted that this day they were going to be late for work and there was nothing they could do about it. And then one middle-aged guy said loudly, “Well, hell, when I was a kid, the snow would sometimes get three feet deep, and I would stay out all day until dinner time. And here I am, stuck on a bridge over the Walt Whitman Bridge because of a little snow. “And then a young guy in the front says, “Well, if you feel like swimming across the Delaware bridge in this freezing rain and snow, then go ahead. Otherwise, sit the hell down and stop moaning. Nobody, but nobody is going to get to work on time today. We should have all stayed home.” 

Everyone looked at one another, and then one guy said, “Well, I grew up in Pennsylvania in the 1950s. And I can vouch for the fact that back then, we got a hell of a lot more snow. That snow storm became known as “The Great Appalachian Storm of 1950,” the snow storm blanketed areas from western Pennsylvania southward deep into West Virginia with over 30 inches of snow. Several areas got more than 50 inches of snow, and in West Virginia, I remember my grandparents told us they got an unbelievable staggering 62 inches. So, we shouldn’t complain, Who knows what’s going to happen with this Climate Change. And that is when everyone on the bus started discussing Climate Chage. Some people didn’t believe in it at all, and other people explained in great detail exactly what was happening and what might happen in the future.

And just about that time, I heard the bus driver say,” OK folk, everybody go back to their seats and sit down. The bridge is closing, so it looks like we can be on our merry way; a little late is better than not at all. About twenty minutes later, we were on the other side of the bridge and only a few minutes away from downtown Philly as passengers began disembarking from the bus. Almost everyone was in a better mood and said thank you to our bus driver and waved to their fellow travelers as they stepped down from the bus.

I’m sure in the future, all the people who rode to work on this particular snow day will have tall tales to tell their children and grandchildren. We all arrived safely at our bus stop and hoped the ride home would be without any problems. We each stepped carefully down the steps and on our merry yet slippery way to our jobs.

As for myself, I felt a little lighter as I stepped down the bus steps. I know I will remember this experience for a long, long time. It would be a story that, no doubt, over the years, would grow and grow until it was unrecognizable. I let out a sigh as I stepped onto the sidewalk and hoped that my ride home would be a safe one. But who knows what challenges will come our way in the future? We have to take one step at a time, one day at a time.

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MEMOIRS OF A BABY BOOMER AND CATHOLIC SCHOOL

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Memoirs of a Baby Boomer and Catholic School

Dear Write On Followers,

For the next several weeks, I will be sharing some of the memoirs from my journals that I have kept over the many years of my life. I hope you will find them interesting to read. I am not and have never been a famous person. However, I do believe that I have led an interesting life, and I hope you will enjoy hearing about it. I have come to a point in my life when I have more years behind me than ahead. Last May, I turned seventy-two years old.

I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, but true nonetheless. {lol} And believe it or not, I’m still a highly active person. I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary called Animal Edventure in Coats, NC, for almost nine years, three mornings a week. I take care of parrots and pheasants. I have come to love every single one of them, even the ones that have delivered a bite every now and then.

In addition, I worked in the courts for the Guardian Ad Litem, representing at-risk kids for the first year we lived here in NC. It turned out it wasn’t a good fit for me, but it was an exciting and enlightening experience for me as a person to see the inner workings of the family court. And the dynamics of the family lives of children who lived under challenging conditions with families who were having serious difficulties.

In addition, I started this blog, Write On, seven years ago. Seven years, how time flies by. It’s hard to believe that I have reached this age, but it’s true nonetheless. I consider it a blessing because at one point in my life in 2007 I was I was told that I had a twenty-five percent chance to survive five more years. I was fifty-six at the time. I was diagnosed with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. The left side of my heart was enlarged. But here I am, still alive and kicking at seventy-two—the magic of modern medicine. I have always had a stubborn streak and don’t give up easily. 

So, let us begin on my journey through life. I had a quiet early childhood. We were an Irish-American family living in Maple Shade, New Jersey, which is a small town about a half-hour bus ride from Philadelphia, PA. Where my parents originated. My father grew up at Gerard College, which was a facility that was devoted to the care of boys who only had one parent. My father’s mother was alive, but his father died early in my father’s life. His mother was a strong woman who worked as a seamstress. She saw her only son once a year at Christmas. Until he was discharged from Gerard College at sixteen and found employment with the PTC bus company, he started out as a driver and eventually, through his mother’s persistence, got an office job. He became the main dispatcher and spent the next forty years working there until he retired at sixty-two. He developed the accounting system that is still used to this day. My father passed away in 1986. He worked the four to twelve shift. And sometimes the twelve to eight AM shift. He slept during the day, and we had to keep the noise down unless we wanted to suffer waking “the old Bear.” The old bear was my father’s nickname.

I had four other older siblings and a fraternal twin. My brother was nineteen years older than me, and my oldest sister was fifteen years older than I was. My other two sisters were seven and eight years older. Our house was not big. There were four bedrooms. My twin and I shared the same bed until my older siblings grew up and moved out. We lived two houses down from Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church and School. I have to admit that most of my childhood memories involve going to Catholic School for twelve years and going to church on Sundays.

And all the fun I had living in a small town with a whole lot of children to play with after school and on Summer vacations. And the unbelievable freedom we (the baby boomers} had as children. During the Summer we were allowed to go and do whatever we wanted as long as we were home in time for dinner and as soon as it got dark at night during the summer.

My earliest memories began with my first day of school at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary. St. Joseph’s nuns taught me for eight years. I had never seen a nun before I started school. I found them to look and be terrifying. They wore long black habits, and their heads, foreheads, and chins were covered as well. They seemed completely abnormal to me. In addition, they had these vast rosaries that hung from their waists almost to the bottom of their habits. Habits was the name of the “dresses” they wore. When the sisters walked, their long skirts would move with them, and the long rosaries around their waists would swing back and forth. I had St. Joseph nuns for eight years in elementary school. They were strict in every way possible. They had to be because of the overcrowded classrooms.

The Catholic church and the priests dominated my memories of elementary school and, of course, the “Sisters” that taught me for eight years. There were sometimes fifty or sixty students in each classroom. Sometimes, there weren’t enough seats for everyone, and kids had to sit on windowsills. Sometimes, we had to share books and supplies. The overcrowding of classrooms was a result of the “Baby Boomer” Generation. There were approximately 76 Million baby boomers born between 1946 and 1964.

They were strict and if a student was acting out or fooling around they would be punished, students could be put in the corner for the day, or have their knuckles hit with a metal edged ruler, or kept after school. One time, I was caught chewing gum in class and was forced to stand in front of the class with the gum stuck on my forehead. I was not allowed to sit down for the rest of the day. I kept raising my hand because I had to go to the bathroom. But I was ignored. And then I couldn’t hold it anymore, and I peed on the floor in front of the whole class. Who laughed at me. The teacher yelled at me.

Of course, not all my school memories were unhappy ones. I had a great many friends in school. Though I never belonged to the “popular group.” I was friends with the smart kids, and I was the comic relief because I was always telling funny stories and making my friends laugh.

And then I graduated from eighth grade. I had to take an entrance test to go to a Catholic High School. I did well on the test and was accepted at both Holy Cross High School and St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy. It was an all-girl school in Haddonfield, NJ, which was nothing short of a miracle since I did not prepare myself for the test in any way. My parents decided to send me to St. Mary of The Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. It was an all-girls school. And many of the students were from wealthy families who lived in Haddonfield. I, of course, was not from a wealthy family.

In any case, the “nuns” certainly instilled a sense of discipline and didn’t allow students to be lazy. They kept us busy all day and gave us plenty of homework to keep us busy after school. They used to say,” Idle hands were the devil’s workshop.”

In fact, even during school holidays and summer vacations, my sister and I were kept busy. There was no escape from them. Karen had to iron, and I had to clean their storage room, where they kept all their dry goods.

As I look back on my childhood, I have to say it was not a perfect childhood. But who among us had that? My parents loved me and my siblings and provided for us in every way they could. I have to say that my parents rarely showed affection towards one another or to me or my sisters and my brother. But, it was clear to me and the rest of my siblings that my parent loved every one of us. Since, they worked night and day to provide for us in every way possible.

In any case, the nuns certainly did instill a sense of discipline and didn’t allow students to be lazy. They really put the fear of god and the devil in us. They believed that “idle hands were the devil’s workshop.”They kept us busy all day. And they gave us plenty of homework to keep us busy at home after school. My mother made sure that after school, we went outside and played with our friends. And after dinner, my mother would help me with my homework.

It took me years to overcome all the inhibitions they pounded into me. Looking back, it’s difficult to ascertain whether I had a good childhood or not. Certainly, it wasn’t perfect. My parents loved me in their own way. However, I was rarely on the receiving end of a hug or kiss. My parents were not demonstrative people. My father because he grew up in an orphanage, and my mother because she spent her childhood caring for her own mother, who was bed-bound with Lew Gerrigs’ Disease. In addition, my mother was expected to care for all her brothers.

Neither my mother nor my father were demonstrative in that they rarely showed any physical attention. And this lack of physical and verbal affection affected me in a negative and profound way. In that I grew up having a difficult time showing affection to the people I love, my sisters and my brother. I loved them dearly but never expressed it openly.

I guess from the outside, my family and childhood were typical of every other American family at the time. A mother who stayed at home, a father who worked and typical of Irish and Italian families, had large families. I had some friends who had between six to fourteen children in their immediate family.

The next chapter of this momoir will speak to my generations absolute freedom they experiences outside our homes growing up in a small town in Southern New Jersey.

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THE BIRDS IN MY LIFE, A BIRD”S EYE VIEW

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As long as I can remember, I have held a fascination and deep love for birds. I can remember sitting in my backyard in Maple Shade, New Jersey, under our Weeping Willow tree and quietly observing all the birds flying overhead. There were several birds nest in the Willow Tree. And I loved nothing more than to sit there for long stretches of time and listen to the baby birds squeaking for their mothers to feed them. Their hunger was all-encompassing. And it seemed that they didn’t care for anything except for being fed and having their mother sitting on their nest and keeping them warm. 

As the Spring transitioned into Summer, I continued to observe them quietly while I sat under our beautiful Willow Tree and by the time Summer came to an end, the baby birds had grown up, and before long, they flew away from their nest and headed south for the winter. I would miss their presence over the long, late Fall and cold winter days. But, I knew that come next Spring new birds would arrive and build their nests and create their own new baby birds. This experience would come and go, and over the years, I grew up as well. One of the last Springs that I remember watching for the arrival of the Spring Birds, our Willow Tree, and all the other Willow Trees on Fellowship Road, where I grew up, became infected by some disease that was called Willow Blight. It was a type of fungus that killed off all the Willow Trees where I lived and across the state of New Jersey. And eventually, my father had to cut down the now blighted tree.

After the tree was cut down and the trunk removed, I experienced a period of loss. Not only did I miss my beautiful Willow, but I missed the birds and the baby bird and the hatchlings that used to occupy the Willow in the Spring and early Summer. I missed sitting on the bench that my father had built where I used to sit and listen to the birds. And I often read one of my many library books during my Summer vacation,

As I grew older, I found other things to do during the Summer, like swimming in the community pool and digging in the clay pits, roller skating, riding my bike all over the place and playing with all my neighborhood friends, going swimming in my friend’s swimming pool next door and catching and releasing fireflies at night.

Strawbridge Lake, Moorestown.J

Sometimes, I and one of my friends would ride our bikes all the way to Moorestown and go to Strawbridge Lake. People used to go fishing here. My friends and I used to walk around in the shallow part of the lake and cross the dam where the waterfall was located to the other side and back. There were all kinds of trees and shrubs located at Strawbridge Lake. We often brought our lunches with us and sat on the edge of the lake and ate our bologna or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I used to save some of the scraps and give them to the ducks that swam on the lake. Birds would come from near and far to visit the lake and rest in the trees that shaded the park and the pond. Strawbridge Lake was an oasis for both children and adults and the many birds, squirrels, fish, and reptiles that lived in the area. I have so many beautiful memories of my experiences there as a child. So much so that when I grew up, married, and moved back to New Jersey, I brought my own children and some of my nieces and nephews to Strawbridge Lake to enjoy the lake, the sun, and the beautiful birds that lived there during the warmer months. In the winter, Strawbridge Lake would freeze over, and we would go ice skating there.

As time passed by, I left my childhood behind. But I never let my love of birds and animals slip away. My mother had a pet parakeet in a cage in our kitchen, and that little bird re-ignited my love of birds. And as a result I haunted my mother and father for years to have a pet. As a result, over the years, my family adopted and loved several dogs and all the neighborhood cats I befriended.

One cat in particular, whose name was Strottles, was a large orange cat that our next-door neighbor had owned. Who grew tired of him and put him out. I used to feed him on the sly because my father was not fond of cats. And then, one unfortunate day, my mother was taking the trash outside to put in the garbage, and she had inadvertently left the side door open. Strottles went into the kitchen, and he killed my mother’s beloved bird. And my mother was devastated by the loss, my father blamed me because I was friends with the cat. And he made me go down the cellar for several hours.  Strottles

My mother never wanted another bird after that. She was brokenhearted. So, once again, I was left to love the wild birds that populated our neighborhood and the wild geese and ducks at Strawbridge Lake. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that my father bought me several finches and a cage for them because I kept begging my parents to let me have a pet. He also let me have a hamster who turned out to be an escape artist—the last time he escaped into the heating ducts, my father had to cut a hole in one of the heating ducts in the cellar to get him out. This did not make my father a happy camper by any means. The finches were the last birds that I had while I was living at home with my parents. 

And it wasn’t until I married my now husband and moved to Florida and then California that we bought our first cockatiel. We named him Pepey. We had him for quite a long time. And over the many years, we had several more.

Jalepeno

Jalepeno

And here I am, ten years into my retirement. And we are living in North Carolina. As soon as we settled into our new home, which is in a small development, I decided that I wanted to volunteer to work with animals. And in fact, that is precisely what I did. I searched the internet, and voila’ I found a place called Animal Edventure located in Coats, NC.

I contacted them, and I told them I was looking for a part-time volunteer position taking care of animals of some kind. They made an appointment to come in and talk to them about a volunteer position. And that is just what I did. The first thing they told me was they needed a Bird Person to take care of their many birds. And I said, sure, I would love that. That was almost nine years ago, and I have been taking care of parrots, Macaws, and pheasants of every size and description.

In addition, I have adopted four parrots, six finches, and two dogs. I go to Animal Edventure on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday morning and take care of these beautiful and, yes, loud birds. So, what can I say, “Some things are just meant to be.” Me and Birds, it’s a thing.

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THE BELLS OF ST. VINCENT’S

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The older I become, the more I find myself looking back on my past instead of looking forward to my future. I suppose that’s normal to some extent, given my present age. I will give you a hint: I retired at sixty-two. And that was ten years ago. I enjoyed working, but unfortunately, I developed a health issue. I was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure, and the left side of my heart was enlarged.

Apparently, this heart problem can be an inherited trait. My mother had the same heart issue and still lived to see seventy-seven. My mother was one of the most caring and unselfish people I have ever known. She always put everyone’s needs ahead of her own. I never heard her say a hurtful word to or about anyone. 

I am a person who has spent a large portiion of my working life working in Social Services. In my own way, I think I have always tried to emulate my mother. At the beginning of my work life, I was a dental assistant, and at one point, I was an oral surgeon assistant when I was living in California. I worked with Doctor Snyder. His office was a long distance from where I was living in Lompoc, and so I looked for employment that was closer to my residence. In 1977, I found a job working at Robinson’s Department Store in Santa Barbara. I have to admit it was not a job that I enjoyed, in point of fact I hated it. I was selling hats and wigs. It was by far the most tedious and isolating job I ever had. I had to stand in the middle of four long glass display cases, style the wigs, and keep the counters and hats free of dust. I had no place to sit down and no one to talk to.

However, I did meet several people who I befriended, and one of them told me about a residential school for mildly mentally handicapped children. It was within the Santa Barbara boundaries. I had talked to her about how much I enjoyed working with children. And that I had come from a big family and had many nieces and nephews. Who I always enjoyed spending time with when I was living in my home state of New Jersey. I contacted St. Vincent’s School to find out if they were hiring counselors. And they said that they were and I requested an appointment for a job interview.

The day I showed up for the interview, I was surprised to find out that Catholic nuns were running St. Vincent’s. They were the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent DePaul. It seemed to me at the time that no matter how old I was or where I lived, the “Sisters” and I would find our way to each other. I say this because I spent twelve years in Catholic Schools, first with St. Joseph’s Sisters and then with the Franciscans.

I grew up two houses away from Our Lady Of Perpetual Help Church and School in Maple Shade, NJ. So, not only did I attend eight years of elementary school there, but I was basically on-call along with my twin sister to come and work at the school. But also at the convent where the Sisters lived, which was about a ten-minute work down Main Street in Maple Shade. In the Summer, I had to cover all the students’ textbooks so that when School started in September, they would be ready for the students. The rest of the year I had to go up to the Convent at least once a week and clean the pantry that held all the canned goods and dry foods that the sister’s ate. My sister Karen had to iron the Altar Vestments for the church’s altar.

I was glad that I didn’t have to do the ironing.; I absolutely hated ironing. I saw my poor mother bent over an ironing board every day of her life. This was before permanent press clothes were invented. Everything had to be ironed back then. Unless you wanted to walk around looking like you slept in your clothes. My mother also had to hang our family’s clothing out on a clothesline. This was back in the day before there were dryers for clothes. My mother had an old washing machine that had a wringer on it. The clothes had to be pushed through the wringer and then hung out to dry. This was an all-day job. In fact, if it rained, you would have to go through the whole ordeal again.

So, here I was again, face to face with one of the dear sisters. Only this time I was an adult albeit a young one. I was volunteering to apply for a job as a counselor at a Catholic facility to work with children. Who came from many backgrounds. Some of the kids were mildly retarded or what is now called Intelectual Disability. The school had children of many age groups, and it housed both boys and girls. Luckily I was hired and as a “counselor’ in the Laboures Group. I worked a split shift, first shift where I woke up the “girls” and prepared them for the school day, they got dressed, and made their beds. And ate breakfast together in a small dining room. Then, I went home and came back when it was time for the kids to get out of school. I walked over to the school and gathered up my kids. It was all girls from twelve to sixteen. After school, I gave them a snack and helped them with their homework. I was relieved when a night proctor took over at 11 PM.

All the kids had chores after their homework was done. I, with the help of one of the girls, set the tables for dinner. After dinner the girls had free time and most often would watch TV. I always watched with them.

I can not express how much I came to love these girls. And how much they meant to me. Every weekend, Bob and I took one of the girls out for the day. Sometimes, we went hiking or swimming in the pool that was at the apartment where Bob and I lived. Once in a while, we went to the movies. They loved to go out clothes shopping just like any young girl would. At night, after dinner, I often helped them write letters to their families. In my heart of hearts I could not fathom why their parents didn’t want them living at home. Perhaps the schools in their area were not prepared to teach children with learning disabilities. I don’t know for sure. This was about 1978.

Bob was attending Brooks Institute ( a Photography School), and he also worked part-time at night. So, we did not spend a great deal of time together. When Bob finished school, we decided to move back to New Jersey with the hope that Bob would be able to find employment as a photographer.

It was tough to tell my kids at St. Vincent’s that Bob and I were leaving and moving far away. But, we couldn’t afford to live in California any longer since there weren’t many jobs available for photographers at the time. I left a big chunk of my heart with my kids at St. Vincents. It was so hard saying goodbye and knowing that it was highly unlikely that I was ever going to see them again. They wrote me for a couple of years after we moved. And then I didn’t hear from them from then on. As some of them had gotten jobs, or moved back with their families. And life moved on for them as it did for me.

Bob and I bought a small house in Pennsauken, and I proceeded to have a baby, who we named Jeanette, and three years later a second daughter, named Bridget. They filled in that big hole I had in my heart and then some.

Life throws us many curves, and we don’t always know which way to turn. We have to keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope for the best outcome.

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