It was one of those beautiful early Spring days in North Carolina. My boss unexpectedly gave me a day off.

He said, “You’ve been working so hard for the past several weeks. Why don’t you take tomorrow off? You can sleep in, go out to lunch with some of your friends, and forget about work for a few hours. 

I took one look at him, just to be sure he wasn’t pulling my leg. And sure enough, he was serious. “Really, I would love that. I haven’t had any time to myself in a long time, and I know exactly what I’d like to do.”

“Really, what’s that?” Oh, I know, go clothes shopping. I know how you ladies love to shop and buy clothes.”

“While that might be true for some women. It’s not true for me. I like to spend any “extra money” on my garden.”

“Well, whatever stokes your fire, I say. Have a ball and buy all the flowers you want. You only live once.”

“Thanks so much. I have about another hour to finish my report. I’ll email it to you when I’m finished, and I” ‘ll see you on Monday.”

That night, I must have checked the weather report ten times before I went to bed. We get a whole lot of rain in the early Spring here in North Carolina, so I kept my fingers crossed that tomorrow it wouldn’t rain. I also hoped it would rain the next day so that newly planted rose bushes and Day Lilies would get watered in.

I woke up at the crack of dawn the next morning, but to my surprise, it was still dark out. Then I remembered the clocks had been turned back recently. Honestly, I wish we could stop moving time forward and then back again. It takes me so long to adjust to it. Enough already, I say.

I rolled out of bed, gingerly put my legs over the edge of the bed, and headed toward my bathroom. I grabbed my sunblock and applied it liberally to every exposed part of my body. I am as pale as they come, and if I don’t douse myself with sunblock, I will be burnt to a crisp. I’m not exaggerating. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little.

And off I went to my backyard to get my gardening tools out of my little tool shed. As I opened the door, I saw something move rapidly across the front of the shed and out the back. I can’t be sure, but I think it might have been some rabbit. I sure as hell hope it isn’t a rat. I don’t mind squirrels, but rabbits love to eat all the vegetables I grow in my raised bed garden. And believe it or not, they are not averse to eating my flowers. The only thing they haven’t touched is my cactus and succulent garden.

I gathered my heeley hoe, my gardening gloves, and some containers to stash the grass and weeds I dug up. I was about ready to start when I heard one of my neighbors yell, “Good morning. I hope you have a great day. Good luck with your garden.” 

It is my next-door neighbor, Piero; he is a nice man and always says hello, but beyond that, he minds his own business. Occasionally, he asks me gardening questions. And I’m more than willing to offer him advice or lend him a hand. He is an elderly man and not completely steady on his feet. Occasionally, he will ask me to come over and give him a hand with his grape vine that grows over his arbor. And I am more than happy to do that. Because eventually, he will turn those beautiful grapes into wine. And he always shares it with me.

I walk over to his fence and ask him, “How are you feeling? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Oh, good, good, the usual aches and pains, but nothing I can’t tolerate. I’ ’m looking forward to seeing your garden this year.”

“ And I’m looking forward to that wonderful wine you make.” Piero laughed and said, “That’s down the road a bit, but I won’t forget you. And if you have any free time, could you come over and help me get my ladder out of the garage and carry it back next to the trellis?”

“Yes, sure, but only if you let me hold the ladder until you’re done. I don’t want anything untoward to happen to you.”

“Yes, yes, you’re afraid I’ll fall and break my neck, but I’ll be fine. I need a steady hand to hold the ladder. It will only take a few minutes.”

“I’ll be right there. Meet me in front of your garage. And I’ll get the ladder out for you.”

I went to the side of my house, opened my gate, closed it behind me, and headed over to Piero’s front yard and garage. I could hear him rustling around inside the garage. The next moment, the garage door opened, and there was Piero—out of breath just from opening the door. I can’t tell you how worried I was about Pierro. He was such a kind and generous man that I couldn’t bear it if something unforeseen happened to him.

“Are you alright, Pierro?”

“Yes, yes, stop you’re worrying. You are like an old mother hen, guarding her eggs.’

“Old mother hen, HUH? Well, that’s a new one. And then we both started laughing. Pierro laughed so hard that he started coughing. I patted him on the back until he caught his breath again. “Ok, let’s go. I’m alright now. Don’t worry so much.”

“Well, Pierro, worrying about the people I love is in my genes.”

“Pierro looked at me, and I saw a tear run down his face. And he wiped it away with the back of his hand. I said, “Here, let me grab the ladder. And before he could try to get it, I picked it up and said, “I’ll meet you out back.”

He met me out back. He must have raced all the way because he was out of breath. “Are you alright, Piero? You look like you can’t breathe.”

“ Ok, don’t start that again, I’m fine.”

I set up the ladder next to the trellis, and we began attaching the vine to it. We worked together, and before you knew it. It was done. Piero stood there smiling from ear to ear. This is one of the reasons I loved Piero, small things made him happy, he never complained. And even better, he had led a highly interesting life. And I loved hearing about it. He had served in the military and had several medals to attest to his courage and fortitude. And the stories he would tell were spellbinding. I can’t express how much I love this old man; the thought of never seeing him again at some time in the future breaks my heart. So, I made every effort to block it from my mind. I call out to him, “Hey Piero, how about coming over for dinner tonight? If it’s nice, we can eat on the back porch. I’m making your favorite spaghetti and meatballs. And I made a cheesecake, your favorite?”

“I say, “ what time, I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Really, that is a sight I would love to see. Be here at 5 o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

I saw a grin cross his face from ear to ear. “I’ll be there on the dot of five.”

I smiled at him, waved, and said, “See you later, crocodile.” He laughed like it was the first time I said it to him, but I say it every time I talk to him. I waved and headed back into the house, stirring my sauce pot. I can’t help but think how lucky I was to move next to this gentle old man. He’s the father and grandfather I never had.

At five o’clock on the dot, I hear my doorbell ring. I look out the window, and sure enough, it is Piero looking back at me with a big smile on his face, and he is rubbing his tummy in preparation for the big pot of spaghetti and sauce. He says, Buonasera, which means Good Evening in Italian. I only know Buonasera and Bon Journo, which means Good Day. He arrives with a big smile and a bottle of his wine. “Come in, come in, no formalities between you and me after all this time, Piero. You are so, so welcome in my home.”

The meal was good; even if I say so myself, the sauce was perfection. And the spaghetti was cooked just long enough, but not too much. “Don’t forget to eat your veggies, Pierro. You can have the cheesecake for dessert if you eat them all.” A big smile crossed his face. And then he said, Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Rudy, he made wine in the old country? I worked there for many years when I was quite young.”

I had heard this story many, many times over the years. But I said, “Oh, please continue. I love hearing about your Uncle and Aunt and the vineyard.”

And so he began the litany of his whole life, growing up working in his Uncle’s vineyard, making the wine. It didn’t matter how many times I heard this story, and I loved hearing it. The love that his family had for one another was heartwarming. I couldn’t hear it enough. I grew up in Foster Homes from my entire childhood through my eighteenth birthday. And that is when I was released from the states care to the big, cold world. One which I had no clue how to navigate. I hadn’t even finished high school. When I found myself on my own, with no job, no money, and no place to go. I ended up working at fast food restaurants. One of my coworkers offered to let me share his room if I would pay half the rent. And then took some night classes at the local county college. I learn how to use computers. It turned out that I had a natural gift for programming, which turned my life around.

I began to become well-known in the field and was offered one promotion after another. And here I am, living the good life. I own my home, which I paid off in five years. I have a new car. In fact, I have the means to “buy” myself anything I need or want. But I always wanted a family that loved me as far back as I can remember.

And then one day when I was in the main office where I worked a young woman knocked on my office door. I signaled for her to come in as I was talking on the phone to a client. I glanced over at her; she looked like a breath of fresh air. I couldn’t stop glazing over at her. Finally, I was able to get off the phone. I looked over at her and said, “Can I help you? And she said, “Well, actually, I’m here to help you. I’m your new assistant. My name is Angela DeMateo if Could you be so kind as to tell me what you need to be done ASAP? And what can wait? I will get down to business. “

Without realizing it, I kept staring at her, unsure as to what I should do or say. And then she cleared her throat and said, “Perhaps I should begin by familiarizing myself with your most important clients. And I will go from there. I pointed to my filing cabinet and said, “I suggest you begin with the McFarland file. They are my biggest client. Once you have a grasp of what we need to move forward with from there we can talk again, If you have any questions at all, please feel free to ask. Here is my cell phone number if you ever need to contact me when I’m out with a client or working at home.”

Angela nodded her head and said, “I understand. I will begin now, if at anytime you need my assistance I will be availale. And that was the last time I saw her that morning until Angela buzzed me and asked if she could order lunch for me. And if so, what did I want? I told her anything but fast food and bad memories attached to fast food restaurants. She said, “ I understand. And I will be back ASAP with your lunch.” And she was in a shake of a lamb’s tail. The lunch was delicious. The next time I saw her was about thirty-five minutes before closing time. She came into my office and handed me what she said were the files that she had completed. I quickly looked them over. And it appeared as if she could fulfill any task set before her.

I said, “Angela, I think it is safe for you to leave now. I’m caught up on my clients. Thanks to you. I will see you no later than 9 a.m. tomorrow. Have a good evening, Angela.” She looked at me and said, “I hope you have a good evening. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow. You have my cell number if you need to contact me for any reason.”

And so it began. Over time, I realized that not only did I become reliant on Angela at work, but I knew that my feelings toward her ran deeper. So, although I knew it was a bad idea, I asked Angela if she would be interested in going out to dinner with me. At first, she hesitated, and I just stood my ground, and finally, she said, “Yes, I would like to have dinner with you.”

And that evening marked a beginning of my life, it was clear to everyone but me that I was in love with Angela, and life without her would be a sad life indeed. We began seeing her on a regular basis. We became good friends, and then it became more. She hadn’t mentioned any boyfriends. I asked her, “Could you please tell me the length and breadth of your feelings for me? Please be honest. Please tell me if you’re not interested in a long-term relationship.”

Angela closed the door behind her, walked over to me, put her arms around me, and kissed me. I took that as a firm “yes” that she was interested in. And friend, that was the beginning of my new life with a woman I loved, and I am getting married. And the rest, my friends, is history. Finding true love and happiness with a woman who loved me. And if that isn’t a happy ending to a fairytale, I don’t know what is.

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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.” 

“ 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.

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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