Author Archives: Susan

YOU NEVER KNOW WHO WILL COME KNOCKING AT YOUR FRONT DOOR

1 Reply

How can I begin? I guess it all began during the pandemic. I was working at home for the first time.

At first, I thought, finally, some peace. No more co-workers constantly interrupting me and breaking my momentum with their endless questions. I was always constantly stressed out because I wasn’t able to concentrate on my current project.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the pandemic wasn’t a horrendous occurrence. It was, for sure. Millions of people were affected, and before the vaccine was developed, many more died, or their health was forever affected by the virus. But, my own experience was that I learned that it wasn’t horrendous to live by myself and not see anyone else for days, sometimes weeks, or even months.

The isolation of living alone and not seeing or speaking to anyone was difficult for me in the beginning. But, as time went by, I became accustomed to it. And then there was the fact that I decided to get a pet to keep me coming. At first, I considered a dog, then a cat, and then a bird. Perhaps a parrot.

I finally came to the conclusion that, eventually, I would be going back to work. And I couldn’t take the dog with me. A cat or bird would be a better choice. And then, I learned that my elderly neighbor had passed away. And she didn’t have any family, and I made the decision that I would adopt her little dog. Chichi, who was a miniature dachshund. His bark was kind of high-pitched and annoying, but I got used to it in no time. 

And before I knew it, I was in love with that little dog. And anybody who tried to take that dog away from me would have to pull it out of my arms after they killed me. Anyways, Chichi and I became inseparable. And we took long walks twice a day in my neighborhood. And my neighbors would wave at me from behind their living curtains, too afraid to come outside and talk to me lest they be exposed to the virus. But who could blame them you couldn’t be sure that they didn’t have contact with someone that was exposed to the virus but didn’t have any symptoms yet. The pandemic was a complete and utter nightmare. Not in my wildest nightmares did I ever imagine that such a thing could occur in our modern-day society.

After about six months, I started getting antsy. I really needed to talk to someone. And then I remembered social media on the internet. There were places on there like, Facebook, Reddit, and scores of others. And I thought, why the hell not? I would try to make this nightmare of a pandemic into an opportunity to create new relationships.

And so it began. I made a Facebook page for myself. I only put vague descriptions of where I lived and what I did for a living. I wasn’t taking any chances. At least, I didn’t think I was. But only time would tell what this experience would bring into my life, love, companionship, or nothing at all. How in the world would I predict the nightmare that would take place in the next months of my life?

About six months into my isolation, I noticed I had a message sent to me from one of the social media web pages I had joined. I was somewhat nervous, hoping against hope that it would turn out to be my new best friend or, better yet, my one and only true love. Or just a friendly, equally lonely person. Be they men or be they women. And I would once again have a friend in the world. I clicked on the message. And then I held my breath. And low and behold, the message stated,” Hello, I hope this is not too much of an intrusion into your life. But I couldn’t help but notice your profile, and I hoped that you and I could begin a friendship of sorts, even though it would be an online friendship. I have felt so alone ever since this pandemic began, as I am working from home. And my family lives far away. If you are interested, let me know, and I will send a link to my social media page. His name was Kyle Adams.

And so it began. It took me two full days to decide what I should say in my response to the person who sent me a friend request. I was afraid I would say too much, sound too needy. Or that I would sound boring and pathetic.

Finally, I drafted my message, and I signed my name at the bottom and a rather vague description of myself and my employment situation. And that I was currently working from home. I almost gave up hope when I didn’t get a response for two days. And when I was about to give up, I got a response.

And to my surprise, the message was from a man. I had been certain that the message was from a woman. I became somewhat paranoid about the whole thing. I was both terrified and thrilled at the same time. I found it hard to believe any man would be interested in a woman my age. Who had so little experience in relationships? Be they friend or intimate love relationships. I had always been someone of a loner. And had long ago given up on ever finding love.

So, after several days of going back and forth and trying to decide to send a friend request, I did. And then I waited and waited there was no reply. I gave up and tried to stop thinking about it. And a week later, I noticed that there was indeed a response. It took me all day to get the courage to send the message. I told him my name was Helen and that I was fifty-six years old. That I had been married for ten years but was now divorced. And that I hadn’t dated anyone since that time. And that I lived alone except for my dog, Chichi. That I enjoyed gardening and taking long walks, and hiking. And that presently, I was working from home since the beginning of the pandemic.

The next morning I was surprised to find a response from him. It turns out that he was having a similar experience in that he was working from home since the beginning of the pandemic. And that, at first, he enjoyed the quiet, the solitude, the freedom. But, as time went on, he began to feel isolated. And sometimes he felt like crawling up the walls just from the boredom alone. He didn’t really have any hobbies at all. But he did enjoy walking and hiking as well. And he was happy that we had that in common. And to my surprise, he asked if I would like to meet somewhere and perhaps talk about going hiking.

I thought about it for several days. And then I thought, well, why the hell not? As long as we meet at a public place and not in some out-of-the-way woods where, who knew what could possibly happen? I didn’t want to end up murdered and buried in some woods out in the middle of nowhere. So, I finally sent him a message and told him where we could meet. And that he could recognize me by the big, red hat I would be wearing. I knew I was being paranoid. But bad things do happen to good people. And better safe than sorry etc, etc.

I didn’t hear from him, so I took that as a good sign and started counting the days until we would meet. The morning of our meeting, I realize that I had never asked him what he looked like. So, I had no way of recognizing him. But I went anyway. I hoped he would be able to find me because of my big, red straw hat. I was early as usual. I’ve always been paranoid about being late for anything. As a result, I was always way too early for everything.

Luckily, it was a beautiful day, sunny but cool, and the sky was blue with fluffy white clouds. I took my time driving to our meeting place and tried not to obsess about our meeting. After about fifteen minutes, I see a man in the distance waving at me. So, I wave back. He looks middle-aged with red, curly hair and a red mustache. Unfortunately, I’ve always had a dislike for redheads. But I decided not to make a big deal about it. He keeps waving as he gets closer and closer to me. I had a very strong impulse to tell him he can stop waving now. But I overcame the impulse, thank goodness.

I get out of my car and slowly make my way towards him. I see a big grin spread across his face. And I realize that red hair or not, he is adorable. His smile is hard t resist. As I get closer to him, I take off my hat and wave that at him. I hear him call out, “Helen, is that you? It’s me, Johnathan. I love your hat.”

When I was standing about two feet away from him, I looked at him from head to toe. He was about five foot eight. And as I mentioned earlier, red curly hair and a mustache. He looked back at me and said, “Helen, you look exactly as I hoped you would. It is so nice to see someone up close. Since this whole pandemic thing happened, I have felt so alone and isolated. I always felt I was a loner. But, as it turned out when being alone wasn’t a choice, I didn’t like it at all. I miss the everyday camaraderie of talking to workmates and eating lunch with my co-workers. All the mundane things you take for granted. I’m hoping the pandemic will end soon, and we can get back to some normal day-to-day living. How do you feel about this whole experience?”

“ I agree it has been challenging, to say the least. I, too, live alone, but I have an active social life, going out with friends to dinner and movies, and concerts. I also love square dancing. And there is a club that I attend several times a year where we square dance. It’s a lot of fun. Of course, drinking beer all night lightens the mood too. I also love gardening, and I enjoy reading. I guess none of that sounds exciting, but overall I have a good life and a decent job. And I hope sooner rather than later, this pandemic will end. And we can move forward with our lives once again. So, how do you feel about walking some of the trails in the park now? It’s such a beautiful day.”

“Yes, it sure is. And I love being out in the fresh air and seeing all the trees and plants and wildlife. I’m sick of being cooped up in my house. I’ve been working from home for months. I miss my office mates and eating lunch and sometimes dinner together.”

“Well, shall we be on our way? Have you been to this park before?”

“A couple of times, but not lately.”

As they walked along the path, they both took a deep breath of the fresh air at the same time and then sighed. They looked at each other and smiled. “Kyle, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself as we walk along? I’m afraid I’m a bit out of shape after all these months of sitting at my kitchen table and doing my work. Not to mention the ten pounds I’ve gained from being in close vicinity to the frig. So, how about we start out slow and work up to speed walking?”

“Well, Helen, I have to admit I’m a bit out of shape myself and all that junk food I’ve been eating instead of eating healthy foods. I hate living by myself, and I’m not much of a cook either. When I was married, I was quite a bit heavier since my wife, her name Jasmine was an amazing cook.”

“Oh, you were married. Did you get a divorce? How long ago did this happen?”

“No, I didn’t get a divorce my wife passed away. She had breast cancer. They tried to save her in every way they could. But, the cancer had spread and eventually took her life. She was a wonderful woman. She passed away four years ago. We never had the opportunity to have children. Sorry, I don’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. She must have been a wonderful woman. Life sends us a great many challenges in life. You never know what is going to happen next. I mean, who in the world ever thought there would be a pandemic that affected the whole world population? It makes you realize that life is a gift and we shouldn’t waste a minute of it, doesn’t it?”

“You absolutely right, Kyle, so how about we make a promise that from this moment forward, we do not waste one moment of our lives looking back at our mistakes. And we make every effort to be optimistic and make every moment count. Do you agree?”

“Yes, I agree from this moment forward, we will make the most of our lives.” And they smiled at one another and bumped elbows. And from that moment, they both made every effort to live each day fully and enjoy all the good things in life. And avoid stress and negativity one step at a time.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

THE BOOB TUBE

1 Reply

1950’s television

When I was quite young, perhaps about nine years old, my father bought our first Television. Most of my friends who lived in Maple Shade, New Jersey, already had one. It was black and white, meaning it was not in color. There were only three channels on our TV. They were three, six, and ten. That’s it, three channels.

One of the first shows that I watched was Captain Kangaroo. It was a children’s show, and I never missed a single episode. That is until I turned seven years and I began going to school. Luckily for my mother, we lived only two houses down from the Catholic Church and the Catholic Grade School. Which was called OLPH (Our Lady of Perpetual Help).

Captain Kangaroo

I was absolutely heartbroken when I realized I would never be able to watch the Captain Kangaroo Show. But, I was happy to find out there were children’s programs on TV after school.

Sally Star

I rapidly became a faithful follower of The Sally Star Show. The show also featured short movies starring the Three Stooges and the Popeye Theater. When this show was on TV, I focused all my attention on it. It didn’t matter what else was going on. My mother would often remind me that dinner was ready. But, it was nearly impossible to unglue me from the TV while the Sally Star Show was on.

I’m sure I was among a great number of children of my generation who rapidly became addicted to watching television. Television became available to the general public in the mid-1950.

My father would often remind me not to sit directly in front of the TV as he was sure I would go blind. Don’t worry, and I didn’t go blind. But, it turned out I did need glasses for seeing anything that wasn’t up close. I didn’t get eyeglasses until I was in high school, unfortunately. And watching TV up close was not the reason I was near-sighted.

Once I outgrew watching Captain Kangaroo and Sally Star. I used to watch American Bandstand, which was a live dance show where local teenagers danced to the latest hit music. I was still in elementary school at the time, but my older siblings loved the show, and one time one of my sisters attended one of the shows.

With the advent of TV came commercials that advertised products and companies in the local area. In fact, TV assisted in spreading American culture around the world. 

Until the early 1970s, the majority of people who appeared on TV were Caucasian. The occasional person of color who appeared on TV was portrayed as lower caste people, like servants. In the town I grew up in, I clearly recall seeing signs stating no blacks were allowed and on some of the entrances to the local bars, “no women allowed.” Or there was a separate entrance for women. I can not recall any TV shows in the first years of TV that included people of color. But that did happen over time.

It wasn’t until about the mid-sixties, when Bill Cosby starred as a detective on a show called I SPY, that an actor of color was seen on TV. In my own experience, there was only one black girl who attended our high school. There were no people of color living in the town I grew up in until the Fox Chase Apartments, which was located on the outside perimeters of Maple Shade, allowed people of color to reside, and this was in the late sixties and early 1970s. TV shows reflected the American Culture at the time.

I have to admit that TV had a great influence on my early life and how I came to believe the world to be. In many ways, TV was a reflection of American lives, and American culture affected what we saw on TV. And with the advent of cable TV came new channels and networks.

As a young girl growing up watching TV every day, I noticed that girls and women were almost entirely portrayed in subservient positions to boys and men. I couldn’t help but think how unfair this was. I always considered myself to be equal to any boy, and often I thought I was smarter than they were. But, TV didn’t portray girls and women as equals. And in our own home, our mothers did all the cooking and cleaning and the wash. When I began high school, my mother found employment working at Wanamakers Department store in the employee’s kitchen. It was hard work, and she worked full-time. And when she came home from work, she still had to cook and clean and do the wash.

Housewife in the 1950’ss

It wasn’t until the early 1970s that women began actively seeking equal rights and opportunities. I was just out of high school when this movement began. And TV reflected the lack of opportunities for women in the real world and television.

It was about this time I began watching less TV and reading more and more. And as a result, I learned that my life and the world were not the same reality that appeared on TV. But, that TV was a somewhat distorted view of the world. And that I needed to open my eyes to reality and not fictionalized reality. And when I did, I found that although more than half of all women were employed, they were only getting paid sixty percent of what men were paid. Presently, most women still earn about 82% of what men do working in the same job. Can anyone explain how this is fair or equitable? I certainly can’t.

And I have to admit that my own father once told me it was a waste for girls to get an education since they would get married and have children. And that is when I made up my mind that someday I would go to college, and nothing was going to stop me. And that day did come but not for a long time. After I got married at twenty-three and moved to Florida and then to California, I put my husband through college. And we returned to New Jersey and bought a small house, and eventually had two children.

When I was thirty-six years old, and my children were six and three. I decided that I was going to apply to colleges and earn a degree, and I did just that. I applied to and was accepted at Temple University in Philadelphia, and after four years of hard work and studying, I earned three degrees, including a degree in Art Education. And my husband and I bought a large old home in Pitman, NJ. A doctor formerly owned it. But, it was in disrepair as it had stood empty for eight years. My husband and I spent years renovating the house. And I opened up my own business called The Art Room, and I taught art to children and adults for many years.

Over my lifetime, I found that you will receive many messages on television, in the movies, from the media, and from all the people around you. But, you must trust your own instinct and believe in yourself. Make choices and decisions that are right for you. And ignore all the noise around you. I have come to believe that television no longer reflects “real life.” That stories are fictionalized and edited until there is little that reflects reality.

I do believe that it can affect, to some degree, how people view important issues such as politics, race, and gender equality. But we need to take it with a grain of salt. Because what you hear and see on TV can be both misleading if it is not verified. And also, you shouldn’t interpret anything on TV literally. And remember, television was called a “Boob Tube” for a reason.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Dear Write On Followers

Leave a reply

Hello, I wanted to let you all know that as of this week, I will be posting my new short story or memoir on Fridays and posting one of my previously posted stories on Wednesdays. I hope all is well with you. Best Wishes, Susan A. Culver

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

Leave a reply

I’ve been dating my boyfriend Gregory since I was in the ninth grade. I just graduated from Temple University. The sad truth is that Gregory and I no longer have anything in common.

When I first met Gregory, I thought he was the most handsome boy I ever met. He was outgoing and funny. Wherever Gregory was in the room, there was sure to be a crowd of people around him laughing. Every girl I knew envied me and wanted Gregory for themselves. Gregory ignored them all. He was loyal to me and didn’t even look at all the girls that tried to seduce him away from me. He was the smartest person I ever met. And not only that, he was a star quarterback throughout high school. He received a full-ride scholarship to Vanderbilt University.

Everything comes easily to Gregory. I have to admit he’s a gifted person. In fact, no matter how hard I examined him, I can’t find a single fault. So, therein lies the problem. Gregory is too perfect. He excels at everything with very little effort. Everyone loves him and admires him. Wants to be him. 

I know I should consider myself lucky to have Gregory, and in the beginning, I did. But over time, I noticed that there was a subtle shift in my feelings for and about Gregory.

I began to resent that Gregory was always in the limelight, always the center of attention, always the STAR. I knew I needed to break up with him before I began to loathe him. He hadn’t done anything to deserve my hate. He was the perfect boyfriend. I know he was going to ask me to marry him after he decided which professional football team to sign a contract with.

I didn’t want to be known as so and so’s wife. Always on the sidelines, the devoted spouse. Yes, yes, I know. All I had to do is be a loving and faithful wife, and everything I ever dreamed of having would be mine. I would have a gorgeous home, designer clothing, an expensive car, and be able to travel all over the world if that is what I wanted to do.

I’ve tried to talk to Gregory about how I felt, that I had dreams and goals of my own. He would say, sure, sure Babe, whatever you want, and off he would go. After months of delaying the decision to leave Gregory, I finally took the final step and broke up with him.

I admit the timing wasn’t perfect. In fact, I chose the worse time to do it. The afternoon before dinner Gregory’s friends were throwing him a victory party for getting a contract with the New England Patriots.

We were having lunch on the patio of our house. It was such a beautiful day. Early that morning, there had been a Spring shower, and the sun had just shown its face, and raindrops on the grass were glistening like diamonds in the sand. I had been struggling for weeks trying to decide the best way to tell Gregory about my decision.

I decided the most painless method was to tell him all at once. Quick and painless I thought. I’ve been trying to tell him in a million different ways over the past year. And he kept blowing me off. If Gregory doesn’t want to hear something, he refuses to hear it.

I had already packed up all my earthly belongings, the ones that matter anyway, and had them in the trunk of my car. Gregory hadn’t even noticed. I left all the expensive jewelry he had ever given me on my dresser. Jewelry was never important to me. I had told him time and again that I didn’t need it, didn’t want it. He just never heard me.

I was taking the last bite of my gourmet lunch. Oh, I forgot to mention that Gregory is a gourmet cook. On this particular day, Gregory had outdone himself. He had made a chilled Wild Pacific Confit Salmon with a Harissa Sauce, Quinoa & Arugula Salad, and fresh pears with Honey-Sea Salt Cornbread with Local Spiced Apple Butter. As I reflected on this lunch, I considered it my last meal with Gregory. And I have to admit I enjoyed that meal. It was delicious, and I would miss his cooking. It marked the end of an era in my life.

“Gregory, I have something to tell you.”

“Christine, please don’t spoil this day. You know I have been looking forward to this for a long time. And every time you preface a conversation with, “I have something to tell you.” I know I’m not going to like it. Can you spare me the drama today? Let’s have a nice day, can’t we?”

“I’m sorry, Gregory. I’ve tried to tell you how I’ve been feeling many, many times. You refuse to listen to me. So no, it can’t wait. I’m leaving you, Gregory. Today. This is our last meal together. I’m unhappy. I don’t want to be a cheerleader for you anymore. I care about you, I admire your intelligence, creativity, and ambition. But I have the desire to succeed and grow too. And there doesn’t seem to be enough space in your life for me to do that.”

“What are you talking about? I never tried to stop you from anything you wanted to do, Christine.”

“Yes, you have Gregory. It’s not blatant. You didn’t say, No, I forbid you to do this or that. But you did discourage me from going back to get my Master’s degree because it was inconvenient timing. When I wanted to go to Europe for six months after I graduated. You said maybe later.”

“I never said no, I just said later, Christine.”

“Gregory, later never comes. I have all my belongings packed, I’ve rented a small apartment off-campus, I got a part-time job, and I’m going to get my Masters and my Ph.D. I don’t need your help. I’m sorry I’ll be missing your big dinner, but I’m sure you’ll have all the attention from your groupies that will more than makeup for me not cheering you on. Although Gregory, I do wish you all the success in the world. Take care, Gregory. I’m going to be leaving now.”

And that’s when I noticed the expression on Gregory’s face changed from annoyance to anger. I never saw that expression on his face before. I hardly recognize him. He didn’t say another word to me. He just stared at me with what I can only say looked like hatred. I think it was the first time Gregory didn’t get what he wanted.

I moved into my apartment. I think it is what people called an efficiency apartment. In that, it was really just one big room with a tiny kitchen, a living room space, and an area next to the kitchen where I put my bed and bedside table. And there was a tiny bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. There was only one small closet. So, I had to leave most of my out-of-season clothing in storage. But it was mine, all mine—no one to tell where everything should be and what looked right and what didn’t. I loved every inch of that apartment because it was mine.

For the first several days, I didn’t hear from Gregory. Nothing. Nothing at all. I thought good. He is going to act like a grown man this time. He is just accepting that things have changed and moved on with his life, no drama, no theatrics.

But then, little things started happening. I didn’t think too much about it at the time. I just thought, “Well, that’s weird.” And then I forgot about it. I received several hang-up calls on my cell phone. But I didn’t recognize the phone number. But that happens to everyone at one time or another, hang-ups.

Then about two weeks later, I started having accidents. I was going down the two flights of steps from my apartment to the street, and the steps were oddly slippery. The first time I fell down about six steps before I was able to grab the banister and stop myself from falling down all the way. I got up and quickly looked around because I thought someone might have seen me fall.

And then the next time I fell, it was because the banister came off in my hands when I went to grab it after I slipped on the steps. Not only did I fall down the flight of steps, but I nearly clobbered myself in the head when I made a grab for the banister and nearly hit myself in the head. After I managed to get myself up off the floor and dust myself off, I examined the banister it had been neatly sawed in two places and then put back in place. It was deliberate.

I called up the manager of the apartment building, and he apologizes and said he has no idea how such a thing could happen, but he’ll send the maintenance guy over to repair it today. And when I arrive home later that day, it had been replaced. The next couple of weeks flew by without any unexpected occurrences. So, I just put it down to bad luck and forgot about it.

I was working part-time in a restaurant that Gregory and I used to frequent. I was lucky to get a job here because it was a high-end place, and the tips were generous. And then, one night, as I was clearing one of the tables in my section, I noticed that Gregory had just come into the restaurant with a young woman that was so beautiful that even I could not take my eyes off of her. She was well over six feet tall and had long blond hair down to the middle of her back. She was wearing a dress that barely covered her ass. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and the front neckline was so low you could almost see her belly button.

I said a little prayer that they wouldn’t sit in my section. But, unfortunately, they did. After they were seated, I walk towards their table with menus and plastered a smile on my face. I walk slowly over to their table. I hand them their menus, smiled at them, and said,” Good evening, hello, Gregory. So nice to see you. Can I get you a beverage or a drink while you look at the menus?”

“Hello, Christine, so nice to see you. So, this is the dream job?”

“No, this is a job that pays the rent while I finish my Master’s. Are you ready to give me your order, or would you like some time to study the menus for a bit?” I look at him and wish I could smack the smirk off his face. I smile. His date doesn’t react at all. She obviously doesn’t know who I was and why he brought her to this particular restaurant.

After they finish their dinner, I walk over to their table. Would you like to look at the dessert menu or have a refill on your coffee? Gregory said, “What would you like to recommend?”

“Well, the lemon cake is delicious. I know you would enjoy that. And there’s a Raspberry-lemon mouse that is to die for.”

“Camella, what would you like?”

“Oh, I don’t know; they both sound delicious. I’ll get whatever you are getting, Gregory.”

“Gregory looks up at Christine and says, “You heard her. We’ll have Lemon cake. It has always been my favorite. And two coffees too. That will be all.”

Christine put on her biggest smile and says, “I’ll be back in a few moments.”  And then she turns and walks away. There is no way she is going to let Gregory think he has the ability to upset her or make her jealous. She doesn’t care one way or the other how he felt.

After Christine delivers the desserts, she says, “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that will be all.” And he looks away from Christine and starts talking rapidly. His date’s eyes open wide with a surprised look on her face.

When Christine looks at the table, they had left. She finds a $5.00 tip on it. She picks it up and stuffs it in her apron pocket. Wow, he was really being a jerk.

About three weeks later, she receives a phone message. It sounds like an older man’s voice, and it seems familiar. “Good Morning. This is Dean Sheridan at Temple MS program of Science and Technology. I am trying to contact Christine Brown. Could you please call my office asap?”

Christine picks up the phone and looks at the phone number, and sees it was the Dean’s office. She calls him back and listens while the phone rings four times. She was about to hang up when finally, a male voice said,” Hello, this is Dean Sheridan. Can I help you?”

“Hello, Dean Sheridan. This is Christine Brown here, returning your call. What can I do for you?”

“Ms. Brown, I’m sorry, but I have some bad news for you. The benefactor that was providing the funding for the opening of the Master’s Program has pulled his funding. I’m so sorry. This happens sometimes. I’ve been trying to find contributions from some of our more generous alumni. But so far, no luck. I’m going to keep trying. However, I suggest you start applying to other universities asap, just in case. I’ll hand your call over to my assistant, and she will give you their contact information. Again, I’m so sorry to disappoint you. You would have been a great asset to our program. If you are able to secure funding somehow, please inform me. “

Christine felt crushed. She had worked so hard to get this far, and she couldn’t believe the rug was being pulled out from under her this late in the game. The classes were supposed to start in three weeks. It was too late to apply to other programs. She realizes she will have to start applying all over for next semester and seek scholarships or grants. There was no way she could afford it on a waitress’s pay. Maybe she could get a second job and save enough money to reapply next year. She feels a tear run down her cheek, but she quickly wipes it away. There is no way she’s going to start feeling sorry for herself. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, and she has a long road to travel before she reaches her goal.

About six months later, Christine receives a letter informing her that her building had been sold and she has to seek new housing and vacate her apartment by the end of the month. Christine couldn’t believe the bad luck that had come her way in the last six months. It was so expensive to move and time-consuming. And she has to find another apartment that’s affordable, which is no easy task. She calls all her friends to see if they know of any cheap apartments in the area. The last person she calls is her old friend, Sheila.

“Hello, Sheila, this is Christine. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a while, but I’ve been working 24/7, trying to save money for my MS classes. First, I lost my scholarship and grants and my place in Temple’s MS program. And today, I received a letter stating that I had three weeks to move out of my apartment. My building is being sold.  Anyway, I was wondering if you know of any cheaper apartments or even anyone looking for a roommate near Temple University? Oh, and how are you? My bad,”

“Hello Christine, yeah, I did hear through the grapevine that you really had a bad string of bad luck, I should have called, but you know how life gets in the way. No, I don’t know anyone or any place for that matter. But why don’t you contact Gregory? His father owns a lot of residential property in the Temple University area near Broad Street. In fact, doesn’t he own the apartment building where your studio apartment is located?”

“What, I didn’t know that? Gregory never mentioned it. Oh, I knew they were wealthy. But I never really asked about where their money came from. It just didn’t interest me. I’ll have to look into that. Thanks for the info. I’ll let you know what happens. So, what have you been up to anyway?”

“Oh, same old, same old. I’m finishing up my dissertation. And after that, I’m taking a sabbatical and going to do some traveling before I start teaching. That is if all goes well with my dissertation.”

“Really, that’s amazing. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked to get this far. You deserve every success.”

“Thank you, girlfriend. It’s been a long hard road, but I’m near the end. Please let me know if you find an apartment. You know you can count on me to help you move.”

After Christine hangs up, she starts thinking about the string of bad luck she had experienced in the last several months. And a lightbulb goes off in her head. It all started when she broke up with Gregory. And now she finds out that Gregory’s father owns the building she lives in. She decides to go to the library and find out if it was true that Gregory’s father owned her building. She didn’t want to believe that Gregory would be so mean-spirited as to cause her to become homeless.

After several hours of researching properties, she’s told by the librarian the best thing she can do is go to the county seat and look at their records to find out just who owned the apartment complex she lives in. And with the clerk’s help, she’s able to find out that it is Gregory’s father, Stewart Landers, does indeed own that building and several others in the Temple University area. Most of these are occupied by poor students who eke out a living as waiters and waitresses or nannies for rich people in the Society Hill area of Philadelphia.

Christine contacts Gregory’s father’s office and asks to speak to him. She identifies herself as a family friend. When He comes on the line, she says, “Hello, Mr. Landers. This is Christine Brown. I used to date your son, Gregory.”

“I know who you are, Ms. Brown. Gregory was brokenhearted when you broke up with him. We were all fond of you. And we hoped you and Gregory would marry. Mr. Landers, I’m sorry I hurt Gregory, but I wasn’t ready to get married. I wanted to finish school and get my MS. And then possibly go on to get my doctorate. And then I want to teach. I tried to tell you this to Gregory for a long time. But he didn’t want to hear about it.”

“Well, these things happen, and it looks like Gregory has moved on. He has been dating a beautiful young lady who just graduated at the top of her class from Sarah Lawrence. Perhaps a better fit than you two. No offense. So, what can I do for you? What’s this all about?

“My landlord just informed me that my building was being sold, and I had to move out.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. But what has that got to do with my family and me?”

“You own the building.”
“I do? Where is it?

“It is in downtown Philadelphia in the Temple University area. A great many students live there. I’m one of them, and I was just notified that I had to move out. It’s the Edge Student Village.”

“Oh, yes, that’s one of my buildings. I gave that building to Gregory as an investment for his future. He didn’t tell me he was going to sell it. I will contact him and see what I can do about this situation. Of course, if he already sold it, there isn’t much I can do about it. Of course, I could probably find other housing for you. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I would appreciate that, and I’m really in a desperate situation. I’m living day to day. I can’t really afford to move again so soon.”

Two days later, Gregory’s father calls Christine back and says, I talked to Gregory, and he said he hadn’t filed the final papers. He knew that was your building, and he wanted you to feel helpless. He thought you might come back to him if you had no place to go. I guess he is still in love with you.”

“Mr. Landers, if he really loved me, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hurt me. He would want the best for me. He wants to control me, and that is something I could never live with. I want Gregory to be happy, but I don’t think that, ultimately, we would have been happy together. We want completely different things in life.”

“Yes, I can see that. He is still a very young man and has a lot to learn about life yet. I’m sorry, he told me how angry he was at you and some other things he had done to get your attention. And for all of that, I apologize. Your building is not going to be sold. You can stay there until you are finished with your education. I hope you will forgive him and move on with your life. I have warned him to do the same.”

“Thank you so much for your help.”

“Good luck, young lady.”

Christine hangs up the phone with a sigh of relief. She fixes herself a cup of coffee and sits and down, and takes a deep breath. And at just that moment, the doorbell rings. Christine goes to the door and looks through the peephole, and sees an eye looking back at her. “Who’s there”

“I have a delivery for Christine Brown.”

Christine opens the door. And a young man stands there with a huge bouquet of long-stemmed yellow roses, her favorite. “Oh no”, she says.

She hands a dollar to the delivery man and takes the flowers. Inside there is a note that says, “All is forgiven. I’ll be over at 7:30 PM to take you out to eat at our favorite restaurant. Eternal love, Gregory.”

“Oh no, this is going to be much harder than I thought,” she says out loud. And then she closes the door and locks the two locks and the chain.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

IN LIFE YOU LEARN AND GROW THROUGH PAIN, STRUGGLES, LOVE AND JOY

1 Reply

I find it hard to believe at times, but I’ve gotten to that stage in life when I realize my most valuable possession is the time I have left to live and what I do with it. It seems like a blink of an eye since the day I sat in the church auditorium waiting for my name to be called as one of the graduating Seniors at St. Mary of the Angels Academy high school. This was an all-girl academic Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. It was June of 1969. My graduation marked both an ending and a beginning for me. The end of my Catholic School career and my childhood, and the beginning of my future as a working adult.

To be perfectly honest, I had never given any real thought about what I would do when I graduated from high school. And no one ever asked me what my plans were. And if they asked me, I would have had to say, “I have no clue, honestly.” That is until one day at the end of my final semester at SMAA (St. Mary of the Angels Academy). Sister Eileen Marie, the principal at SMAA, called me to her office and told me that she had a job for me. Apparently, Sister Eileen Marie found jobs for students who were not going to go to college. She informed me that she had recommended me for a job as a dental assistant for Doctor Edward Wozniak, who lived in and practiced dentistry in Haddon Township, New Jersey. It was about a thirty-five-minute drive from where I lived in Maple Shade, NJ. 

Sister Eileen told me that Dr. Wozniak’s wife had attended SMAA back in the day, and she wanted to hire a graduating student from St. Mary’s to come and work at her husband’s dental office since she had two small children and couldn’t work in the office. I was told I should arrive at Dr. Wozniak’s office on time, dress properly, speak up, and make a good impression. I recall having the interview with Mrs. Wozniak, but not how I got there since I didn’t have a car. I have to assume that either my father drove me there or I took public transportation. It was a short interview, and Mrs. Wozniak explained what my duties would be and my hours, and my pay. The only money I had ever earned previously was babysitting which I probably made about a dollar an hour. Mrs. Wozniak ended her description with the question,” So when can you start?” I told her my graduation day and said,” Any day after that.”

I can’t say I remember being nervous about starting my first job, but I probably was. But, as it turned out that although I never had any work experience, I was a quick learner. And in no time, I was learning how to be a dental assistant, develop dental xrays, answer the phone and make appointments, and call patients to confirm their appointments. I also was a chairside assistant, cleaning the rooms and setting up the instruments for each patient. I escorted each patient into the room where their dental work was going to take place. I talk to each patient and try to calm them down if they were nervous or just past the time of day with them. I also had to clean the rooms, including the lab, at the end of the day.

It was a challenging job. But I have to admit I really liked it. Dr. Wozniak was a kind man and always thoughtful to both myself and his patients. I worked there for about four years. I believe that working at Dr. Wozniak was an excellent experience for me. I became more confident in my abilities and more outgoing. Since I had to talk to all the patients and reassure them, answer all the phone calls. I learned to be organized, efficient, and friendly to the people I came in contact with me.

In fact, every job or position I have held over my lifetime has been of benefit to me. I enjoyed some jobs more than others. But, overall, every experience prepared me for the next one. I was no longer shy and reticent. I was outgoing and confident. Life, after all, is full of learning experiences that benefit you from that day forward if you are open to them.

I have to admit that I have had and held many jobs over the years. And that not every job was a dream job; some I downright hated. But, still, I learned something along the way. And I met many interesting people. After I stopped working at Dr. Wozniak, I decided I wanted to do something more challenging and different. And I did just that. I applied for a job as a psychiatric aide at Ancora State Mental Hospital. It was a good hour and a half drive from where I lived. My brother, who was a psychologist, had at one time, early in his career, worked at Ancora. He gave me the contact number of one of the people he worked with at Ancora. And so, I called her and got an appointment for a job interview. I did well at the interview and was hired. I was informed that I would have to take several weeks of training before I could work with the patients in the active psyche ward. I said, “But I told you I wanted to work with children. And she told me not at this time, but perhaps at some point in the future.

So, I had to take a thirty-day training with several other candidates. We had to take a written test at the end of the training. It turned out that a young woman named Joan Hall and I were the only ones who excelled in the test. The instructor told us we should both consider getting further formal education since we had both stood out from the crowd. Joan was assigned to a different ward than I was, and I never came in contact with her again.

I was assigned to the Active Psyche Ward. And I have to admit that “active” was not the best description of the behavior I observed in the first couple of days I worked there. You have to remember that this was in the early 1970s, and few medicinal drugs were available to treat mental illness. Most of the patients I encountered were taking Thorozine. They often walked around like zombies, or they slept all day. In the children’s ward, I often saw young children running around without clothes on. I have to admit I was shocked since my own life. I had always been sheltered to some extent by my parents.

At one point, I was assigned the duty of supervising women’s showers. There really aren’t any words to describe that experience. Seeing so many females, young and old undressed and standing in the showers. I was told they were not allowed to share showers with other patients. So, the first time I supervised the female patients in the shower, I spent my time separating grown women who kept trying to shower with other women and kept touching one another. This was not a good experience for me, and I informed my immediate supervisor that there was no way I could do that anymore.

In addition, I had to accompany patients from one part of the hospital to another. In inclement weather, I would take the patients through a system of underground tunnels. It turned out this was a place where many patients would arrange clandestine meetings with one another to have sex. I learned to avoid looking at these interactions and tried to block them from my memory.

It turned out that I was put on the three to twelve shift. And because I had to drive for nearly an hour to return home, my parents didn’t want me to continue working there. I requested to be assigned full-time to the children’s wards since their work shifts were during the day. At one point, the doctor in the ward where I was working told me he wanted me to observe an electroshock treatment that was being done on a young woman.

I never observed such medical treatment before since I was only out of high school for three years. I was somewhat terrified as I stood there and watched the young woman being treated. Since she was strapped to the table and had no recourse, she started reacting negatively, crying and asking them to stop. The doctors laughed and kept going. They made fun of her. It was just awful. It turns out that patients treated with electroshock treatment suffer memory loss. I’ve never been able to forgive those “doctors” for degrading the poor woman. Who was supposed to be treated with kindness and understanding and be on the road to recovery?

At this point, I decided this was not my job. Because my core beliefs would not allow me to stand by and let another person, one that was struggling with life, be treated with such disregard. I gave them two weeks’ notice and quit. It was a learning experience for me. I quickly realized who I was and what I was and was unwilling to do to earn a living for myself.

I never told anyone what I had observed while I was working at Ancora. Because I didn’t really have the words to express the horror I felt at how my fellow human beings who were supposed to be helping this poor miscreant treated the people they were supposed to be supporting to a return to mental health. I felt the system had totally failed these people. And I could not imagine spending any more time working there. So, it became apparent that I was going to have to get busy looking for another job. And I was successful in doing just that. I applied for a job at Ellis High-Risk Auto Insurance Company on Haddon Avenue in Haddon Township, New Jersey. And it turned out to be a good choice. But, I will speak to that experience in my next memoir about jobs I have had over my lifetime.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

CREATE A LIFE THAT HAS PURPOSE AND MEANING

1 Reply

I’ve always been a bit of a loner. Even as a child, I seemed to be content to sit at home and watch TV or read a good book. In fact, I spent much of my free time at our local library. I could spend hours and hours going through the book stacks to find that perfect book to read. For many years I read mystery books and Horror. Stephen King and, Kean Kootz, John Grisham were my favorite writers.  

I have to say I preferred my own company. I was not adverse to the company of cats, my dog, birds, and my hamster. So, I suppose that seems a little odd. I guess most people who knew me knew that I was not a run-of-the-mill kid. I liked taking long walks by myself around town or to a lake that was located in the town next to where I lived. I had a wild imagination and told people stories that they often found hard to believe.

I always had plenty of things to keep me busy, reading, watching cartoons, riding my bike all over the place, drawing, and making things. I was always a highly creative person. Reading is what eventually drew me into writing and telling stories. Anyone who is lucky enough to be born with an active imagination is unlikely to be bored or lonely. At least, that has been my experience.

It’s not that I didn’t have friends. I had school friends and neighborhood friends. And yet I always had a desire to spend a large portion of my time alone. As I grew up, I found that my desire to spend time on my own creative pursuits outweighed my desire to go out with friends as often. And believe it or not, that desire to create art is what drove me to eventually make the decision to go to art school at the grand old age of thirty- six. I had two children at the time, who were six and three.

I was the only adult student to enter as a Freshman at the Tyler School of Art, which was part of Temple University of Philadelphia. I made a decision that while I was going to college, I was going to make every effort to befriend every student I met along the way. I looked young for my age, but by no means did I look eighteen. I also decided that not only would I complete my college education, but also that I would excel in every way possible. And to some degree, I did just that.

Tacony Bridge

I had to drive from Pennsauken, New Jersey, to the Tyler Campus, which was in Cheltenham, Pa. This was about a forty-minute drive from where I lived. And I had to cross the Tacony Bridge from New Jersey to Pa. That was my first hurdle since I was terrified of crossing bridges. And the reason for my fear was that I had a scary experience when I was little. My father took me and my mother with him to Philadelphia, and I was sitting on my mother’s lap. I think I was about five years old. And I was leaning against the car door. We were temporarily stationary as a bridge opening backed up the cars. And the passenger door flew open, and I fell out the door onto the bridge. Luckily we were in the far right lane, and no other cars were to the right of my dad’s car. And from that day forward, I was afraid of bridges. So, as I was saying, that was my first hurdle to overcome my fear of bridges since I had to go over that bridge at least two times a day. And fortunately, I did just that.

It turned out that I was the only adult student in my Freshman class. During that first week of school, I was always the first student to arrive in each class. Since I always had a phobia of being late. As soon as the other students started arriving in the classroom, they would ask me if I was the teacher. And I would laugh and say,” No, I’m a new student.” And then they would stare at me for a couple of minutes. I didn’t let this bother me. By the end of my first year at Tyler, I had befriended nearly every student in my class and a couple of the teachers.

By the end of my senior year, I knew all the students in the school and had become friends with them. On the afternoon of our graduation, I graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Art and Teaching Certificate with a 4.0 average and in the top ten percent of the entire graduating classes at Temple University. I have to admit I was proud of my accomplishment. It wasn’t easy going to college with two young children. At times it was really difficult. During the Spring and Summer Break, I took care of my children and the child of a friend whose father babysat my children after school during the school year. I wouldn’t have been able to complete my education without their help in caring for my daughters.

When I graduated from college, my oldest daughter was ten, and my youngest was seven. And then, I began searching for an Art teacher’s position in the public school system in New Jersey. And after months and months of applying to every public school in South Jersey and Pennsylvania, I found that the public schools were no longer providing funding to Art programs in their public schools.

I can not describe how disheartened I was when I couldn’t find employment teaching art. So, after months and months of looking for a job that didn’t exist, I decided that I would have to create my own job. And so, I began a search for a house that was big enough to be our new home and also had room to teach art to the students who lived there. And finally, I did just that. I found a home that had formerly been the home and office of a doctor Dr. Sooy in Pitman, New Jersey. He was a Neuroo psychologist. And apparently, he only saw patients at nighttime. 

The house was large and had been empty for almost ten years. It was in need of a new roof immediately. There were seventeen rooms in the house, including a third floor and an attic,, and two basements. It was built in 1910. It was an amazing house but needed repair from the roof down. And over the next twenty-four years that we lived there, we did just that. We did all the repairs ourselves except for putting on the new roof and new heater.

There were three rooms and a bathroom in the section of the house that had been the doctor’s offices. And upon seeing it, I knew I had found the home for my family and my art classes. After a year of renovating the house and the offices, I launched The ART ROOM. It wasn’t easy by any means. I had to notify everyone in the town via the local newspaper. And I had to appear before the township counsel to explain exactly what my plans were for the Art Room. And how I envisioned that it would be of benefit to the children and adults in the local community.

Several of my new neighbors were kind enough to speak before the township leaders on my behalf. One of my neighbors, in particular, Doctor Bob Batten,, and his wife, Marie Batten, were my biggest conrads in arms if you will. And finally, my plan and my classes were approved, and I could launch my business and my school. I was lucky enough to teach art to many children and adults over the years that I lived in my home in Pitman. It was a wonderful experience, and I became friends with many of the town folk and watched my students grow as artists and move on to go to finish high school and on to college.

My oldest daughter Jeanette attended my classes for years and applied to and was accepted at the three of the best Art Schools in Philadelphia and ultimately attended The Hussia School of Art in Philadelphia. And she has become an extremely talented artist in her own right, including designing and making her own clothing. My youngest daughter is a gifted ceramic artist and, to a large degree, self-taught. She had taken some basic ceramic classes in college but has taken it to a much higher level of competency because of her innate artistic talent.

Not all the students that attended my classes became artists, but their lives were enriched by their experience in learning how to express their imagination through painting, drawing, and three-dimensional art. As a matter of fact, two of the Pitman administrators took night classes for several years at The Art Room.

In addition, I was blessed by getting to know and spend time with many of the people that lived in Pitman and their children over the years I lived there. I can’t tell how much their friendships enriched my own life. I found watching people grow as human beings and be able to express their own creative drives regardless of their age inspiring.

And finally, I can say that my experience of putting myself out there in public view was certainly a positive experience. One which I can not put a dollar amount. I look back on that time as a happy and positive experience of which I am proud. It was an enriching experience and a memory that I will always cherish. It imbued me with a new understanding of my fellow human beings and how many people have an innate desire to grow and continue learning as humans. These experiences improve their quality of life.

As for myself, even though I have reached the twilight years of my life, I still want to continue learning and growing both as an artist and a writer. And as a human being, I continue to engage with all the people I come in contact. I hope that contact has a positive effect on them in some way. I have realized over my many years that doing good in your life, it will give your life purpose and meaning. And hopefully inspire people to do the same.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Each New Page Is A New Day In The Diary Of Your Life

1 Reply

I never considered myself to be naive. I’ve lived in the world for a long time. And I’ve had my share of life experiences to make me even more aware that not everyone you meet in life is trustworthy. But in addition, there’s the old maxim, “Don’t Judge A Book By Its Cover.”

Unfortunately, I’ve always been succor for a beautiful smile falling. My mother always told me to ensure a person’s smile reaches their eyes. If it doesn’t, their smile is fake, and therefore don’t trust that person.

Unfortunately for me, about six months ago, I found myself in somewhat of a pickle. I decided to go down to my basement to look for a book that I had read years ago. I looked everywhere upstairs and even went so far as to search my attic. Oh, but that was a mistake. I spent three days going through old newspaper clippings and furniture that I no longer needed or wanted. But, still, I was unwilling to throw it away. I even found some of my father and mother’s memorabilia, including some of her silver. I realized I definitely needed to clean out my house from top to bottom. It was a mess. 

It was really too much for me to do on my own, so I put a small ad in the local newspaper for a part-time person to help me clean out my attic and basement. I was offering five dollars an hour, and for some reason, I only got two responses. One was a teenage boy who looked about ten years old to me. But he insisted that he was sixteen. He looked at my attic and said, “Oh, you got to be kidding me. I’m not cleaning out this mess for only five dollars an hour. And then he gave me a cold stare. And the other one was a woman who looked about thirty-five years old. And was thin as a reed and looked like she hadn’t eaten a good meal in a long, long time. She also seemed really nervous and jumpy.

She came into my house like a stormtrooper. She rushed around like the house was on fire. And then said, alright, “I’ll take a good look at your attic. And then I’ll give you an estimate for the whole job. I will clean the house from top to bottom, including the basement and the attic. When she returned to my living room, she handed me a small piece of paper that said $500.00. I looked at the paper, and I said,” Are you out of your mind? I told you the pay was five dollars an hour. Do you plan on working more than two weeks here??”

Lady, you have clearly underestimated how long it will take to clean up this mess you have created for yourself. You won’t find anybody else who will do this job for less. Take it or leave it. I don’t have all day. I have other fires to stoke.”

“Other fires to stoke. What in the world are you talking about?”

“ It’s just an expression, meaning I’m a busy woman.”

I stared at her for a minute or two, unsure what to do. I decided I wasn’t going to find anyone else to help me. So, I would have to bite the bullet and pay the piper. So, I said, “OK, when can you start? And how long do you think it will take? And also, I’m not going to pay you until you complete the entire job. And I’m satisfied.”

“OK, I’ll start Monday. You must order a dumpster to put all the trash in.”

“What? I’m not getting rid of everything I own. I’m just getting rid of things that I don’t need anymore. On the first day, we will walk through the house and make a list of all the things that have to go and those that won’t. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. I’ll be here first thing Monday morning at 9 AM sharp.”

And with that, she went out the front door and slammed it shut. The whole house shook. I hope I wasn’t making the worse mistake of my life.

I guess I have to give her credit. She did arrive at 9 AM sharp on Monday morning. She banged on the front door as hard as she could. I opened the front door, and I said, “Oh, for heaven’s safe, you don’t have to bang on the door so hard. The whole house shook. By the way, I realized after you left that I didn’t get your personal information and references before you left the other day.”

“ My name is Thelma Rice; I’ll give you the names of a couple of people I have worked for recently and their phone numbers. I see you got a small dumpster, and you’ll probably have to have it emptied a couple of times. It would have been cheaper to get one big one, but that’s on you, not my problemo. Where do you want me to get started?”

“Let’s get started with the cellar. I’ll go down with you and tell you what has to go and what I want to keep. I got a new light in the stairway and in the basement. I feared you would break your neck going up and down the steps in the dark.”

“ Oh wow, how thoughtful of you to put a light bulb in the stairway for me.”

She looked at me with such disdain, I had to look away. I felt like we started off on the wrong foot. But my intuition told me there was no right to this woman. “OK, why don’t we go down and start making a list of what has to go and what will stay.”

“Yeah, let’s. I’ve really been looking forward to it all weekend.”

I didn’t realize she was being sarcastic immediately until I looked at her face. “OK, let’s go. I’ll lead the way.”

We made it safely down the steps. I rarely went into the basement except to put the wash in and take it out. It really was a pit down here. But what can I say? Basements are not supposed to be a place where you spend a lot of time after all. We walked from the front of the basement to the back, and I wrote down a list of what absolutely had to stay and what was going in the dumpster. I guess I didn’t realize how much crap I had saved over the years until now. I even found an old washboard that was my grandmother’s. It might be something of value just because it was an antique. But I put it on a list of the stuff that had to go.

About four hours later, I said, Thelma, that looks about it for the basement. Let’s head upstairs. I made some fresh coffee and bought a couple of Danish for us to eat for a snack. What do you say?”

“ I say, it’s about time. I”m starved. I didn’t have anything to eat this morning. And a cup of strong coffee would really hit the spot. Let’s head up.”

I looked at her, and I thought that was about the nicest thing she’s said to me since I first met her. “Sure, let’s go and take a little break. It will do us both good. I have to admit the basement is really a pit.”

“So, we made our way up the stairs. And I said, “So, how do you like your coffee?”

“Black, two sugars, and hot.”

“Really, Thelma? That’s the way I like it too.”

For the next five minutes, we ate and drank the coffee in silence. And then Thelma said out of the blue,” This reminds me so much of Sunday morning after my parents and I came home from church and ate breakfast. Except, we always had bacon and eggs and toast and hot coffee. But this was really nice.”

“My family used to do the same thing. Sunday was always my favorite day of the week. It was the only day I saw my day. He worked all the time. We had a big family, and he rarely took a day off. My mother would make a cake on Saturday morning, and we used to eat it after Sunday breakfast if we still had room in our stomachs. She made the best cake in the world. My favorite was vanilla cake with chocolate icing. It was delicious. I wasn’t allowed to drink coffee, so I drank tea or hot chocolate.”

“Well, that’s something we have in common. I still miss my mom and dad. However, they have been gone for many years. I would give anything to see them one more time. A tear ran down Thelma’s face as I said this. And my tears followed soon after. It was ridiculous for two middle-aged women t cry over the loss of their parents so many, many years ago. After a few minutes, we stopped crying, and I offered Thelma another cup of coffee, but she said, “Better not, or I’ll have to use the lady’s room sooner rather than later. I’ll have one later if that is alright?”
For the rest of the afternoon, we carried stuff out of the cellar and went up and down the steps and brought boxes and boxes of stuff I didn’t even remember having out to the dumpster. I kept asking myself, “Why, oh why did I keep all this stuff for so long?”

When it was time for me to leave, Thelma said, Thank you for all of your help. And then she stopped talking and said, “I’m sorry, but I forgot your name. What is it?”

“Well, you’re probably not going to believe this, but my name is Louise. So, together that makes us the team of Thelma and Louise. And I believe we do make a good team. We work quietly but efficiently. We got a lot done. And we shared a pleasant meal together. You probably won’t believe this, but I don’t really get along with many people. I guess I tend to pre-judge people, or maybe I’m just a big grouch. My family always told me I was a grouch, so maybe I am.”

“Well, Thelma, I think we get along fine. It was somewhat of a rough beginning. But now we are really rolling forward and getting a lot done with no difficulty. So, I’ll be here first thing tomorrow. Maybe you should call the company that brought the dumpster over and ask them to pick it up and bring an empty one over.”

“Good idea, I forgot all about that. Thanks for reminding me. I do really feel like we got a lot accomplished. I feel good about it. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. How about if I stop by the donut shop on the way and pick up some treats? I have to admit I really have a sweet tooth. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, Louise.”

The next morning I woke up with a start and realized I had forgotten to turn on my alarm clock. It was eight o’clock. I would have to skip my shower and throw on my clothes and stop at the donut shop on the way. I bought hot coffee for two and four donuts. I wouldn’t ordinarily eat so much junk, but I felt justified because we were doing all the heavy lifting and running up and down the steps”

As I walked up to the front door, Thelma said, “Oh, it’s so nice to see you again. I didn’t realize how lonely I get here at home by myself until you started coming here. Well, today, we’ll be working in the attic. It is hot up there, so I opened all the windows and turned the big fan on. So, at least we get some fresh air. I also stopped at the food store and picked up boxes to put all the stuff in rather than climbing up and down the steps so much.”
We spent the next four hours going up and down the steps carrying boxes. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any hidden treasures or anything valuable. One unusual find was a speaker from a drive-in theater. Thelma explained that when she was a kid, her family used to go to the drive-in theater. And once, her father forgot to take the speaker off the car window and drove off with it. And he never took it back, and he put it up in the attic. It was a somewhat valuable object for her because it was probably the last time her family went to the drive-in and saw an outdoor movie. And it had always been a good experience for her. And reminded her of her father, who she still missed after all those long years ago.

The good thing in life is that memories can stay with us for our entire lives, and they do not take up space, and there’s always more room for more memories. Thelma hoped that after Louise was finished helping her clean out the clutter, she and she could become friends and make some new memories. And much to her surprise as Louise said, “ I hope I am not over-stepping, but I was wondering if you would like to go out on Saturday to breakfast with me. And perhaps go to a local Farmer’s Market to pick up some fresh veggies and fruit and then later go to lunch together?”

“Really, I would love that. I haven’t been out to eat for years. And going to the farmer’s market would be such a treat. I haven’t done that in years. Do you want to pick me up, or do you want to give me your address, and I’ll come get you?”

“Well, how about I pick you up this time, and next time you can be the driver. I know we are going to have a great time. And the weather is supposed to be beautiful. How about at 9:00 Saturday morning and bring some shopping bags for the fruits and veggies. They both smiled at each other and said, “See you then,” at the same time. Then they laughed again. They gave each other a big hug. Who would have thought that two such different people would become friends? But the fact is life gives you many opportunities to find happiness and friends. You have to be ready to grab it while you can.

 

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

KNOCK THREE TIMES

1 Reply

Someone must have seen and recognized him because the police and what looked like Homeland Security were at his front door. His first impulse was to run out the back door. And run as fast and as far as he could. But, it occurs to him that they probably have people surrounding the house.

As he walks toward the front door, he glances in the mirror next to the steps and glares at his reflected image. He sees a reflection of himself that looks like an old man with white hair and a white mustache, and white stubble on his face. The lines on his face look deep and ancient, as if they had adorned his face for a long, long time. He hoped that his present appearance would throw them off. He had a reputation for being the best man for this particular job of concealing his identity. 

The men at the door began to bang harder and louder. Then he hears someone shout. “Open the door. We know you’re in there. You have thirty seconds to comply, or we will knock on your door. Take your pick.”

He walks ever so slowly to the front door and then begins coughing as hard as possible. He says, “I’m coming as fast as I can.” He grasps the door knob and unlocks the door, and pulls the door open. He sees before him what looks as if two men are standing there, glaring at him and brandishing weapons. They look like they meant business. And they weren’t going to put up with a whole lot of bologna. He puts an expression of absolute terror on his face. And put his right hand over his heart as if he would die of a heart attack at any moment.

The man at the front door was armed and looked dangerous as hell. The man said as loudly as he could?“Drop your weapons down, and put your hands over your head. Your under arrest.”

“Who are you looking for? I just moved into this home a few weeks ago. The young man I rented this home from moved to Puerto Rico temporarily. He said he wouldn’t be returning for another eight months or so.”

“ Show us your ID right now, and don’t try anything funny.”

“ Try anything funny? Is this some kind of joke? I’m eighty years old. What am I going to do? Run away? I need a nap after I shower and put my work clothes on. I can barely walk. Just who do you think I am anyway? I’ll get my ID. Just wait a minute. I’ll be right back. It’s on the kitchen table. I left it there last night because of a doctor’s appointment this morning. You must be at the wrong address or something. This is insane. Maybe I need to contact my lawyer. Oh, no, he’s not a criminal lawyer. He handles my investments. I think I’ll call him anyway to get the name of a criminal lawyer.”

“Buddy, you ain’t going anywhere except to prison. Stick your hands out in front of you. We need to cuff you. You can call your tax attorney or whoever you want to once you have been morandized and are in our official care. Now, stick your hands out right now.”

At that moment, the old man steps forward, and in the blink of an eye, he kicks both police in the cojones. And left them breathless in a heap on the front step. He pulls a weapon out of his pocket and shoots them both without a second thought. They were still alive, but probably not for long. He wacks them on their heads. They wouldn’t be getting up any time soon, but just in case, he shoots them both at close range a bullet to the head.

He needs to get his shit together and get the hell out of Dodge before the neighbors start calling in the Marines on him. He quickly runs upstairs and throws on his clothes. Gets his weapons and his getaway bag which includes money and various fake IDs. He had been through this many times. So, he knew what he was doing.

Two minutes later, he drags their lifeless bodies into the living room and shoves them into the hall closet. Five minutes later, he’s backing his getaway car out of his garage. None of his neighbors had ever seen the car because he kept it hidden for such an occasion.

He spends the next forty-five minutes driving in the bumper-to-bumper traffic to the Philadelphia airport. He decides to go to the Philadelphia International Airport and get on the next available flight to Toronto, Canada. And then travel on to Argentina. He’s fluent in Spanish, so he wouldn’t have any problem communicating. He also had several international contacts that would be more than happy to assist him in his escape from justice.

Fourteen hours later, he arrives in Argentina, where he plans to meet with business contacts he had established many years ago. During his long flight, he grows restless and stands up and walks up and down the aisle. He notices someone at the front of the plane in First Class. He opens the door to use the bathroom, and while he is making use of the facility, he realizes who his fellow passenger is in First Class. So, now he went from being up in Deep Shit to an even worse Shit’s Creek.

He decides he needs to shift gears and ensure the passager doesn’t recognize him. However, he was still in Old Man mode. He decides to change his look altogether. It was a good thing he brought and hid all his other fake ID’s with him. Because it was not out of the realm of possibility that the man would recognize him, so, he had two choices go into the deep cover or get rid of this guy altogether and make it look like an accident.

He decides that it would be better not to call any further attention to himself. In addition, he didn’t doubt for a minute that the Stewardess’ would notice if suddenly there was a new and unfamiliar passenger sitting in his seat. He decides to ask for a blanket and a pillow and pretend to take a long nap. And perhaps the man would not recognize him with his eyes closed and under a blanket. Just in case he planned on being ready for whatever came his way. Be it friend or foe.

Several hours later, he was suddenly awakened by a loud noise like a gun being fired in a closed space, and then there was a noise and alarms going off inside the plane. He is immediately on high alert. He looks around in every direction. He still doesn’t have any clue as to what is happening. Then, he hears a second shot. It seems to be coming from the cockpit. In a flash, he understands that the plane is being highjacked. He chuckles to himself. And says, “ I guess I’m not the only bad guy. And then he has a flash of insight. I know exactly what I should do, he says aloud.

Everyone else has their heads down as low as they can go. Some of the people are squatting in the space where they usually put their feet. And somehow, they have compressed themselves to save their own lives. He thinks, what a pathetic bunch of losers. He has always hated common people, who barely scraped by in their pathetic, pointless lives. If he could, he would kill every one of them. And at that moment, he realizes what he should do to escape this predicament.

He was sitting in the first-class area. And he was the first one to be escorted. In fact, he had one of the airport employees push him in a wheelchair to the gangway before any of the passengers were allowed on. No one ever expected a decrepit old man to be a threat to anyone. So, he was alone in first class, and while he was there, he had placed a small, disassembled but deadly handgun taped to the toilet in first class. He starts moaning and groaning until someone comes to assist him. He begs to be allowed to go to the toilet. “Please, please, I need to go right now. I think I left my medication in there when I first arrived. I am having cardiac symptoms. I’ll die without it. Please.”
“Alright, sir. But you are doing this at your own risk. There is a problem in the cockpit, be aware and get back to your seat as soon as possible.”

So, he gets out of his seat and hunches over, and ever so slowly makes his way to the first-class toilet. He quietly opens the door and makes his way inside. He retrieves the parts of the gun and quickly reassembles it. He slowly and silently opens the bathroom door. He hears loud voices from the cockpit, and then a shot rings out. He waits. He looks down the aisle to see how many people are missing from their seats. There are two missing.

He waits. The door from the cockpit swings open, and two armed men come out with the crew and shove them down to the floor. They look a little worse for wear. It appears as if the captain didn’t give in immediately, and his face suffered the consequences as he is sporting a black eye and a broken nose. And one of his front teeth is missing.

He wonders whose flying the plane. He considers his next step one. He starts moaning and groaning. And then yells out, “Help, help. I’m having a heart attack. He keeps moaning. One of the highjackers tells him to “shut the hell up, or I’ll put you out of your misery for the rest of your miserable life.”

He moans loudly again and stumbles down the aisle to where the highjackers are situated. One of them comes at him with murder in his eyes. “what the hell do you think you are doing, old man? Get back in your seat.”

I need help. I can’t get up. So, the highjacker grabs ahold of his shoulder, and as that is happening, our hero of the day shoves his little gun onto the neck of the highjacker and silently blows his head off. In fact, it was so quiet that no one even looked in their direction. He heads to the cockpit again. He stands as close to the door as possible and taps on it repeatedly, and whispers at the top of his voice,” I need help; the passengers are out of control. One of them has a gun and killed someone.”

The next thing he knew, the door flew open, and He said, “Help me, help me. I’ve been shot. The highjacker said, “Get back to your seat, or you won’t live to see another day.” And that is when He silently raised his pistol and shot him right in the temple above his left eye. And the highjacker fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

The day was saved, and all the passengers stood up and clapped their hands. Clearly, they didn’t know what was going on other than the highjackers were done for. They didn’t know who this old man was, and they didn’t care. The pilot headed back on course and headed toward the nearest airport. He returned to his seat like nothing happened and waited for the plane to land. Twenty minutes later, they landed, and after about half an hour, all the passengers filed out one by one. No one even questioned the Old Man, and he silently and, as he left the plane, shoved the disassembled gun into the nearest seat in the pocket of the seat in front of it.

Just another day in the life of an unassuming old man nobody noticed or cared about. He had work to do today, and he was anxious to finish it so he could go back home and live his life, dull though it was. Life goes on, after all.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

MOTHERHOOD IS BOTH THE GREATEST THING AND THE HARDEST THING

1 Reply

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, a child was born. Her parents had hoped and dreamed for a child. But, as the years went by, they began to lose hope. And then, out of the blue, after many years of trying to have a child, their prayers were answered.

The mother, whose name was Sandra, woke up one morning feeling sick to her stomach. Nausea continued for many weeks. She finally decided she should go to the doctor and find out what was wrong with her. It did not occur to her that she might be pregnant. Since she had given up, all hope long ago. She felt weak and tired, and depressed. The nurse took her temperature, weighed her, and asked if she had any other symptoms.

Sandra said,” Not really. I don’t know what is wrong with me. Can you help me, please?”

“Well, there is one more test I can do, and we will be able to get the results soon after. Please go into the ladies’ room and urinate on this stick and then bring it right back to me.

Sandra did as she was told and returned to the exam room with the stick in hand. The nurse walked in and took the stick, and said,” I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please sit down and take deep breaths and try to calm down. I think you will be feeling much better soon. “

Sandra laid back on the exam table and quickly fell into a deep sleep. She was so exhausted from not sleeping well for weeks. The nurse poked her head in the door and saw Sandra sleeping. She decided to let her sleep since the doctor was on his lunch break and wouldn’t be back for an hour.

About forty-five minutes passed by, and the nurse decided to check on Sandra and make sure all was well. She brought the test results into the exam room where Sandra was quietly sleeping and said, “Sandra, wake up Sandra, I have very good news for you.”

“ Sandra slowly opened her eyes. She didn’t remember where she was right away. She looked around and remembered she was at the doctor’s office. “You do. Am I going to be alright?”
“Yes, Sandra, you are going to be more than alright. In fact, I have great news you are going to have a baby. You are six weeks along. What do you think about that?”

Sandra was so shocked by what the nurse said that she responded,” Is this some sick joke or something? It’s not funny.”

“No, of course not. You are going to be a mother in about seven and a half months.”

Sandra was so happy that she started crying tears of happiness. The nurse came over and said, alright, try to calm down. I have some prescriptions for neonatal vitamins. Please try to take care of yourself and eat healthy foods, but don’t overeat. And you don’t want to gain too much weight. The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes to talk to you. Then you will need to make an appointment to come back in six weeks. We want a healthy mom and baby.

After the nurse walked out of the room, Sandra couldn’t stop smiling. She had so longed for this day to happen and had all but given up on her long-awaited dream of becoming a mother. She had always loved children. She started babysitting when she was ten, and as an adult, she worked in schools as a teacher’s aide. Her face was starting to hurt from the broad smile on her face. Just then, the doctor came into her room and said, “It seems like congratulations are in order, Sandra. This must be a happy day for you.”

“Yes, yes, it is. I can hardly believe it. I can’t wait until this baby arrives. It seems like I have been waiting for a long, long time for this to happen.”

“Sandra, I want you to follow the letter and the diet the nurse gave you and take those prenatal vitamins every day. We want both you and the baby to thrive. I’ll see you in six weeks if you have any problems before then, please call the office immediately. I look forward to seeing you soon. Please take care.”

Over the next six weeks, Sandra found that her appetite increased quickly. Sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night, and her stomach was growling. When she returned to the doctor for her six-week check-up, she was astounded to find she had gained twelve pounds. The doctor was not pleased.

“Sandra, how are you feeling? Have you been experiencing nausea, vomiting, or any other symptoms you might want to share with me or concerns you may have?”

“Well, my stomach growls all day and night. It is really uncomfortable. I am always starving. Sometimes I get up in the middle of the night and eat something. I can’t help it. The hunger wakes me up.”

“Have you tried drinking water before you go to bed”

“Yes, but then I must go to the bathroom all night. I promise I’ll do better and try and keep my weight down. I’ll see you in six weeks, doctor.”

The time flew by, and before she knew it was only two weeks before Sandra’s due date. It was difficult to sleep at night since her baby seemed so restless and tossed and turned all night while Sandra was trying to get sleep. And the baby didn’t calm down during the day; she could feel her baby pushing his legs against her ribs.

Sandra couldn’t wait for her baby to be born, and before she knew it, the nine months had slipped by. And one day, her contractions started, and Sandra called her husband at work and told him it was time. After they arrived at the hospital, Sandra was taken into the delivery room. There was a television on in the room, and the doctor watched the show up until she was ready to give birth.

The baby arrived, and Sandra was handed her baby to hold for a few minutes. Until she was taken to the neonatal room. After the obstetrician spoke to her husband for a while, he said he would return later to check on her. And Sandra tried to get some sleep but was suffering from afterpains from her uterus contractions.

A couple of hours later, a nurse came into the recovery room and said we are moving you into your room now. So you can spend some time nursing your baby and holding her. Right now, she is making so much noise that she is disturbing all the other babies. Then a second nurse came in holding Sandra’s newborn, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. Her face was red as a beet. Sandra looked at the baby and then at the nurse and said, “Oh my,  she is really making a ruckus. Let me see if I can calm her down.

So, Sandra took her tiny, red-faced newborn baby and nursed her until she quieted down. As it turned out that nursing her baby was the only thing that quieted her down. Sandra decided to stay overnight at the hospital and leave first thing the next morning.

Sandra realized that having a baby was a gift, but it also was a somewhat overwhelming experience. And Sandra’s little girl was indeed challenging from day one forward.  Sandra never regretted her choice and took one day at a time. Each day was indeed a gift, but it was also a lifelong challenge.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Write On Followers

Leave a reply

Dear Followers, I am reposting one of my older stories and taking a week off writing. Here is the link:https://susanaculver.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=4188&action=edit&classic-editor&classic-editor__forget

Susan A. Culver