Category Archives: I know these things to be true

A NEW YEAR, A NEW BEGINNING

Well, people, here it is again. New Year’s Day. Yet another year has flown swiftly by. As I look back upon the last three hundred and sixty-five days I can’t help but wonder where did all those days go? What did I accomplish? Although it is not a long list, I did manage to write and publish forty-eight short stories. And as far as I’m concerned, that is no small accomplishment.

In addition, I was informed by my heart doctor that my heart had shown improvement, and he took me off Entresto, a drug that not only saved my life but improved my heart health overall. I have been taking Entresto for many years, and it costs me $900.00 every three months, which is no small amount of money. So, that has benefited our finances; when I was first diagnosed with congestive heart disease fifteen years ago, I was told I might survive another five years if I was lucky. And yet here I am.

I am retired and living in North Carolina. We made the choice that once we retired, we would move South because the cost of living was so much lower than in the North East. It was not an easy decision to make because my extended family and my eldest daughter lived in the North East. The fact is that the real estate taxes in New Jersey are quite high. We managed to get by because we were both working full-time. But, I realized that once we retired, we wouldn’t be able to continue living in our home in Pitman any or anywhere in NJ. Upon selling our home, we packed up all our worldly belongings and moved to North Carolina to a three-bedroom home in a small development in Willow Springs, NC, which is about a forty-five-minute drive from Raleigh, NC.

Moving away from my family was not an easy decision to make, and we did not make it lightly. We thought about it for a long time. There were members of my extended family who were not happy about this decision—and made that fact clear. That was unfortunate, but we believed it was necessary. If we wanted to continue living the lifestyle we had been living. The somewhat peculiar fact is that one family member who will remain anonymous, one who was rarely seen over the years, was the one who seemed the most angry. Life is difficult. Sometimes, you have to make decisions that not everyone will appreciate. And they can accept it and try to understand your situation, or they won’t.

In the years that we have been living in North Carolina, I have kept myself quite busy. I became politically active and worked on the Elizabeth Warren campaign and was active in the protest marches. I went door to door, talking to people about the election and what was at stake. I had never been politically active before, save for voting in every election.

In addition, I took a college course that was required to volunteer in the Guardian Ad Litem. A Guardian ad Litem (GAL) is a trained volunteer who is appointed by the court to advocate for the best interest of children at risk who were abused or neglected.

Last but not least, I have been volunteering at an animal Sanctuary for almost nine years. I volunteer every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday morning. I take care of all the parrots, big and small, including five Macaws. I’ve come to love them dearly like my own feathered children. In addition, I have had the opportunity to be exposed to over two hundred exotic animals from every continent. In addition, I have come to love the eleven dogs and several cats that call Animal Edventure their home. As I look back at this experience, I know that the child that I had once been would absolutely have loved to be in the midst of so many different kinds of animals. When I was a child, I had a great love of all animals, big and small, furry or feathered. And for many years believed that I would eventually become a veteranarian.

As it turned out, as I was growing up from a small child to adolescence, I developed an interest in drawing, painting, and sewing. I was a highly creative child. In addition, there was nothing I enjoyed more than telling stories to anyone who would sit still or stand still and listen to me. It wasn’t until I was married and had two young children that I made the decision to go to Art School. I spent several months preparing an art portfolio that I would need to be accepted into an art school. at the grand old age of thirty-six, I applied to three different Art Schools in Philadelphia. I was accepted at all three. And I made the decision to attend The Tyler School of Art, which was a part of Temple University.

I was the only adult student in my Freshman Class. I have to say that the decision to go to college was the best decision of my life. Before starting college, I decided to introduce myself and become familiar with all the students in my classes. And I did just that.

Attending college full-time in Philadelphia was difficult because I also had the responsibility of taking care of my two young daughters and all the household responsibilities of cleaning, cooking, shopping, etc. That goes along with marriage and children. The only time I had off was in the summer. But somehow, out of sheer will and determination, I made it through four years of college and graduated at the top of my class Magnum Cum Laude. I received a standing ovation from the rest of the student body when my name was called out at our graduation.

But, of all the choices I made in the course of my life up to that point, my decision to go to college was the one that benifitted me on a personal level the most. However, it was extremely challenging to go to college full-time, raise my girls, and take care of my home and all the responsibilities that go along with it. And when I look back to that time, I often wonder how I did it all. I am proud of myself for not letting fear stand in the way. Whenever I have a difficult decision to make now, I think back to that time, and I realize that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to.

So here I am, living in the south. Although this is not the first time I lived down south. When I was twenty-three, I moved to Florida as I wanted to be with Bob, who is now my husband of forty-nine years. And here we are still together. Some people can not tolerate the heat and humidity. But, I grew up in New Jersey, which had its own brand of high humidity, and let us not forget the mosquitoes. And the long, cold, and snowy winter months.

I can not predict what I will be doing in the future. But, I do know this, that once I set a goal for myself whatever that may be, I will set upon a course to succeed as I have in the past. There may be a few rough spots along the way but fear not, I will make my way and reach my goal. And my best advice to anyone is that although you may be afraid to do something, don’t let that fear stand in your way. See past it into your future and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

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March 27th, 2020 Corona Virus

I HOPE THIS GOES VIRAL – PLEASE SHARE ON ALL SOCIAL MEDIA- WRITE ON

SUSIE-KAREN

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My sister and I were born on May 24^th, 1951. We were the fifth and sixth child born to Marie and Hugh Carberry. My mother didn’t know that she was going to have twins, and so when I was born seven minutes after Karen, I was a surprise. I have always hoped I was a pleasant surprise.

Carberry Home Maple Shade, NJ 1950

We lived in a small stucco house in Maple Shade in what was then considered to be rural New Jersey. My family had moved from Philadelphia, Pa. to NJ. They didn’t own a car at that time and arrived in Maple Shade by taxi.

Mother, Harry, Jeanie, Eileen, Betty,, Karen and Susie 1951

My brother Harry was nineteen years old at the time, my sister Jeanie was fifteen, Eileen was eight, and Betty was seven. This was back in the day when birth control was not all that reliable. My mother gave birth to twin boys a year after Karen and I were born. They did not survive. They were called Stephen and Gerard. My fraternal grandmother Elizabeth Carberry moved with my parents.

One of the unfortunate experiences of being a fraternal twin is that people seem to be unable to remember who is who. When we were young, people often called us Susie/Karen or, more often, Karen/Susie. Whenever anyone saw me, people would ask, “Where is your better half?”

My twin and I couldn’t have been more different in our appearance. She had dark brown curly hair, and I had straight blond hair. She grew faster and looked older than I did. And I well I was quiet and shy and imaginative. She was outgoing. Throughout our childhoods, My sister and I were often compared although Fraternal twins are no more closely related or similar than and other siblings.

It is only recently that I found out just how uncomfortable that Karen had me for a twin as a child. Although of course, there were many indications throughout our childhood and our lives.

I started this blog a year ago and began writing my memoirs, my sister, Karen took exception to my interpretation of my childhood experiences. And she felt the need to explain to my readers her feelings about me. And she posted this comment on my blog. I have to say I was hurt. Although it wasn’t all negative. Here it is:

“This is Susan’s twin sister.
We couldn’t have been more different in our likes and dislikes, and our thought processes Susie was a person that kept almost everything to herself. So, there are many things I never really knew about her until we were older. And she was able to transform herself and to a normal and open person. We really didn’t become friends until we were adults and married. We are close now and have been since we were young adults not that we haven’t had our differences of opinions and outlooks that we came to appreciate and respect one another for our differences and more interesting she is always surprising me with the different pursuits that she continues to develop throughout her life she never sits down she’s always going. It has made her a wonderful person.

At the end of September, She called me. She was angry. My sister let me know in no uncertain terms that she didn’t like the memoirs I have written, and she wasn’t going to read them anymore. She didn’t explain what I had said or why it bothered her so much. Karen also said she wasn’t going to read my fictional stories either. This upset me since I have always supported her in everything she has done. And this was the first time I ever asked her to do anything for me. As a result, she hasn’t spoken to me in five months. Even though one of the final things she said to me was that she had always been able to forgive people quickly, apparently, that ability did not apply to me.

In the last several weeks, I decided to attempt to gain a better understanding of why my sister, as a child, felt having me as a sister and a twin, was a liability. I have reflected on my childhood behaviors. At one point in our late adolescence, she yelled at me, “if I ever run away, it will be because of you.” I recall responding,” Me, what did I do?” I have pondered this question many times of the years, and I believe I have finally come up with the answer. Karen just wanted to be an ordinary girl with an average family. And then there I was big as life, and somehow inadvertently calling attention to myself by being so different. And because I was an unusual child, my differences reflected on her. Because we were in the same family, and in the same classroom for the majority of our school experiences.

These same differences are what have enabled me to become an artist, a writer. These are not character flaws.

I have to admit that many of my closest friends were of the four-legged variety. I befriended every cat and dog in my neighborhood and any ones I met along my path in life. I also had a best friend that lived two doors down from me and neighborhood friends and school friends. Karen and I had some friends in common we just never went to visit them at the same time.

As a child, I was often content spending time by myself and recalled going out and sitting in the backyard and watching the birds flying in the sky. And I have clear memories of being able to imagine myself being a bird and flying across the sky. One-year, when we were probably seven or eight. My sister and I were given chicks for Easter. I named my chick Maverick after a character on a TV show I watched. I used to walk around my neighborhood with Maverick on my head. It never occurred to me that it was unusual or weird. But even if it did, I would have done it anyway.

I recall watching a movie called “The Flower Drum Song” about a beautiful young Japanese woman. I was about eight or nine years old . I became enamored with the music and how beautiful the woman was, and for a few weeks, I pretended to be Japanese. I put my hair in a similar style as she did and walked with the kind of shuffle she had because she was wearing a kimono and wooden shoes. Of course, I wasn’t wearing the shoes or the kimono, but that didn’t stop me. I don’t recall my parents or siblings asking me, “what are you doing” Why are you walking like that?” I would have explained it if they asked, but they never did. I suppose they just thought I was acting weird again.

My sister and I shared eight years in the same classrooms in Catholic Parochial School. She avoided interacting with me. She never acknowledged that I was her sister. It was not uncommon for the other kids, not to know that we were siblings. Many people thought my friend Helen and I were the twins. In high school, My sister and I were in different classes, and I rarely saw her. At home, if we talked to each other at all, it was usually an argument.

It’s unfortunate that Karen didn’t get to know me when we were children. Possibly she would have realized that I was an interesting and intelligent person with a wide variety of interests, including art, sewing, animals, writing stories, and reading on every subject imaginable.

Someday hopefully not too far in the future, she will reevaluate her feelings towards me because the clock keeps ticking and time is slipping away. And none of us know when that time will run out for us. Perhaps she will come to realize that what other people think about our family makes little difference. What is important is what we mean to each other. And our acceptance of who we are with our strengths and weaknesses. I’ll always love my sister. She is in my heart.

As a final note, I would like to add that I have observed that creative people share some common traits. They can have a rapid flow of ideas, sometimes, multiple concepts at one time. Also, they have acute sensory skills, strong intuition, heighten awareness, empathetic, and tuned into other people’s emotions and feelings. I have some of these traits myself. Also, when I attended Temple University at Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia at the age of 36-40, I observed these traits in my fellow students. Being creative can be both a gift and a challenge. You are often seen as too sensitive, too much of a perfectionist. I can not stress how often I have was told I was too sensitive throughout my entire lifetime.

And finally, I would like to say in a world where you can be anything, be kind.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

For The Love Of All Things Feathered and Furred

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One of the enduring facts of my lifetime has been that I have loved animals. And my life has been enriched by their presence and their companionship, their unquestioning love, and acceptance.

As a young child, I made it my business to get to know all the cats and dogs in my neighborhood. I knew their names and would visit them whenever possible. My favorite cat was a stray I called Strottles, he was a large orange and white cat who came when I called. He seemed to sense that I needed him and would stay by my side for as long as I needed him too.

My father loved dogs. In particular, he liked Cocker Spaniels. And we owned several during the years that I was growing up. The first dog I recall name was Nomie. My father believed that a dog should be free to roam wherever he or she wanted to go. I loved Nomie very much and spent a great deal of time petting her and playing outside with her. I was never alone while Nomie was in my presence.

Unfortunately, because of my father’s belief that dogs should be able to run free and not be fixed. As a result, Nomie became pregnant. After her puppies were born, she became ill. My father took her to the vet, and he said she had developed “milk fever.” I don’t know if she had died, or she had to be put down. I was devastated when she died. And then my father found a home for the puppies she had birthed. I had become attached to them. But of course, even if Nomie had survived, we would not have kept the puppies. But, no one had told me that. So, when Nomie died, the puppies were given away, and I felt a loss.

We didn’t get another dog until I was about ten or eleven years old. His name was Andy he was a mutt with some Cocker Spaniel in him. But it was clear from day one that he was my father’s dog. Andy’s day didn’t begin until my father was in sight. He followed him around the house and mourned his loss if my father went out for any length of time. My father was the head dispatcher for what was then called PTC, the Pennsylvania Transportation Company in Philadelphia for forty years until he retired. He worked the third shift and slept most of the day. On my father’s day off, Andy sat next to my father’s chair. And my father would scratch his head the whole time he sat in the chair.

Andy was allowed to roam all over the small town of Maple Shade where we lived. And it was not unknown for people to report seeing in Lenola which was another nearby town. And his look-alike progeny. Since once again, my father refused to have Andy fixed.

My father spoiled Andy in every way possible. He asked my mother to cook him corn on the cob and chicken liver and hearts as a treat. You can imagine the result of a dog eating corn on the cob every day of the week. One of our neighbor’s houses was a location that Andy liked to visit. He would often leave a token of his visit and his last meal in her backyard. Our neighbor, Mrs. Gioiella, would come down to our house every time this happened to complain about Andy’s deposit in her grass. This didn’t change my father’s behavior. He continued letting Andy out to roam where he wished. One day a neighbor set a trap for Andy to stop him from doing his business in their yard.

One day Andy returned home with a trap on his foot, my father went through the roof. He interrogated every neighbor to find out who had done it. No one fessed up. Andy had to go to the vet to have his injured foot treated. My father was angry about it for a long time, yet he didn’t keep Andy in our yard. My father was a stubborn man and somewhat inflexible.

In the Summer, my father would go down to the Ice Cream store on the corner and buy Andy an ice cream cone. My sister and I would look on with envy as Andy would eat the ice cream on a hot summer night.

Andy was an intelligent dog, and he knew how to get his feelings noticed. When my parents and my sister and I went out, which didn’t happen that often Andy would get revenge. This was back in the day when people didn’t lock their doors. Andy would go into the house and bring out the bathroom towels and all the pillows and throw them all over the front yard. His feelings would not be trifled with for any reason.

Andy lived to be an old dog. He lived until my father was retired. Andy quietly passed away while my father was in the hospital being treated for an illness. My father was broken-hearted when he heard the bad news. It was a sad day for us all. Andy was part of our daily lives for many years. He was an integral part of our family life.

During my childhood, I had many small pets, hamsters and parakeets and finches and a chicken. I loved every kind of animal, both feathered and furred. I can not picture my life without animals.

After I grew up and married my husband Bob and I had two dogs Ulysses, a terrier and Bogie a cockapoo. They traveled with us from Florida to California and New Jersey. They were my children before I had children. Two Cockatiels Peppy and Soda Pop owned a part of my heart for many years. They were entertaining and sweet-natured.

And then there was the enduring love I had since my early childhood for cats. Over the years, we owned eight cats. One cat remains, Sloopy, who is twenty-five years old. And our tuxedo cat, Evie who just passed away a week ago, who lived to be nineteen years old.

Also, I took care of a feral cat colony for years. I captured the female cats and had them fixed. I would get up and feed them every morning at five AM.

Our newest pets are Douglas, a long-haired Dachshund who has stolen our hearts. And we have two parrot’s BB and Travis that I adopted from the animal sanctuary where I volunteer three days a week. I care for over twenty Parrots and two Macaws. Not to mention the two hundred animals that reside there that I consider friends.

I have no doubt that my life would have been narrower and missing an element without the love and companionship of all these wondrous animals. And if that is not reason enough to have pets as part of your life, here are a few more. Pet owners know how much furry friends improves quality of life. They benefit us on an emotional level. Owning pets decrease depression, stress, and anxiety. Health-wise they can lower your blood pressure, improve your immunity, and even decrease your health risk, including heart attack and stroke.

So, my final word is that pets have had a tremendously positive effect on the quality of my life. My life would seem so much smaller without them in it.

Courage Isn’t The Absence Of Fear. It’s The Ability to Act Despite Fear

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Life is challenging. Every day we face problems that must be solved, questions that must be answered, tasks that must be completed. If you think about it, these are the same problems we had to face since our childhood. It’s only the complexity of problems that have changed as we grow up and grew older.

As a young child before I started school. I was quiet, shy, reticent about straying too far from the familiar. Reluctant to be separated from my mother for any length of time. But still I was filled with curiosity about the world. The world outside my house, outside my yard, outside my neighborhood. I had a fraternal twin sister. It is hard to imagine anyone being more different from me than my twin sister.

We didn’t look alike. I had blond hair, she had dark hair. She was friendly and outgoing and talkative. I was shy and quiet. I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself. I avoided calling attention to myself. I like the familiar, she was more mature and tried different things.

These differences became more obvious when we entered school. My sister made friends more readily. I made friends slowly and with more care. I did every thing I could to avoid calling attention to myself in the classroom. If I could have become invisible, I would have disappeared. I always tried to sit in the back of the classroom. If I was a turtle, I would have pulled my head inside my shell.

Because of my personality and my shyness, I often woke up on schooldays with a stomach ache. I would have trouble sleeping, afraid of failing in school, afraid I wasn’t smart enough. My concern about my intellectual ability was exacerbated by my father. When I was reluctant to go out with my parents to visit friends or relatives or I wouldn’t speak up when he asked me a question, he would say, “I don’t know what your problem is, are you stupid, or lazy?”

I sought comfort in my imagination, in making up stories. And by making friends with all the animals in my neighborhood, the cats, the dogs. I would imagine I was a bird and could fly.

But still I had this inner strength that kept telling me you can do it. And when I was afraid to answer that question in class, I decided I would just stand up and answer even if it made me feel uncomfortable, even if I was wrong. If I had difficulty one day, I would try harder the next. I became stubborn. If someone told me I was wrong, I would be even more determined to prove I was right. My father started saying, “Susan would argue with the Pope.”

If another classmate was being picked on by someone, I would stick up for them. I became braver to help them. Because I knew what it felt like to be picked on. I remembered those butterflies in my stomach when I was afraid. Even if I was shaking in my boots speaking up for myself or a classmate, I did it. I cared about other people and their feelings. I knew what if felt like to be afraid. Their fear, their pain became mine. And I wanted to help them, I wanted to help myself.

These changes did not happen overnight. They happened over years. Years when I learn to accept who I was, and what I was capable of doing. And when I learned to listen to my inner voice and not to the people who told me I was stupid, or lazy. I realized that I knew myself better than anyone else possible could. And so, I did not allow myself to be limited by their definition of who I was and what I could or could not do.

When I was old enough, I asked my father to teach me to drive although I knew he didn’t believe women should drive. He didn’t allow my mother to learn how to drive. I was afraid of driving. But I was more fearful of how my life would be limited by not knowing how to drive.

I started working part-time in my senior year of high school as an dental assistant when I was seventeen. The only other job I had was baby-sitting for my nieces and nephews.

I wanted to go to college, but my father said, “girls don’t need to go to college they’re just going to get married and have children.” So, I didn’t go to college at eighteen even though I attended an all-girl college Prep High School, called St. Mary of The Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield, NJ.

I eventually attended college at the age of thirty-six at Temple University in Philadelphia, Pa. at The Tyler School of Art. I had been married for fourteen years and had two children who were six and three years old in my freshman year. I graduated Summa Cum Laud at the age of forty with two degrees. It was a dream I always had, and I made it happen. It wasn’t easy. I was the only adult student in the Freshman class in 1987. I enjoyed every moment of it.

The day I walked onto that campus as a first day freshman was the opportunity of a lifetime for me. But I have never been as frightened or nervous as I was that day. But I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. All the way up to the day I graduated at the top ten percent of Temple University. I was proud of myself, proud that I accomplished a very difficult goal, proud that I didn’t give up every time I was tired, overworked with school, taking care of my two children, taking care of our home, shopping, cooking and cleaning and staying up half the night or all night studying and doing homework.

Many years have passed since I was a little girl going to my first day of grade school. I have lived a long time. I have moved to another state when I was twenty-two by myself. I have lived in New Jersey, Florida, California and now have retired to North Carolina with my husband of forty-five years.

I have worked as a dental assistant, sold high risk auto insurance, went to hairdressing school in the mid-seventies, sold hats and wigs, worked as a houseparent at St. Vincent’s School in Santa Barbara, gotten married and had two children, went to college as an adult, taught art in my own art studios, had an online business selling one-of-a kind jewelry with my daughter. Worked in Social Services for a decade in Camden and Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ helping at-risk inner-city kids.

So yes, I’m not that shy little girl who was afraid of speaking up and out. I have challenged myself hundreds of times. I have known people who from all of the world and from around the block. I’ve met and gotten to know millionaires and homeless people. And they are all just people struggling in their own way as am I. We all come into this world innocent and none of us gets out of this world alive.

Try and meet all the challenges that life brings to you and always do your best. Life is short and passes by so quickly, do good along the way. Fear may often be your companion but you don’t have to let it lead your way. You are the navigator of your life and don’t let anyone or anything keep you from living the life you want to lead.

And one final thought in case you think I spend everyday typing out stories and sharing my life in this blog. No, I’m still living my life as fully as possible. I work as a volunteer at an exotic animal rescue three days a week. I take care of endangered Parrots and Macaws. And some of my best friends now are lemurs, and a Coatimundi called Neffin, a monkey called Teddy, a lemur named, Monroe, and a rabbit called Marilyn, eight dogs and too many cats to mention. Foxes as sweet and gentle as any dog. And a host of other animals too long a list to mention.

It’s your life, lead it, my friends. It’s normal to be afraid at times, but don’t let fear especially fear of failure stop you in your tracks.

Parenting- These Things I Know To Be True

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Parenting is, by far, one of the most challenging tasks that a mother and father must face. It’s not something that happens in a day. It’s a continuous progression of changes that occur over a long period. And if you have been successful as a parent, your child will be capable of making measured, responsible decisions although there will be many mistakes along that path.

And yet, there is no line saying yes, this person is ready to be completely independent. He or she doesn’t need my input anymore. When my oldest daughter moved out into an apartment in Philadelphia in her last year of college, she made some financial mistakes. In her first couple of months, she ran her cell phone bill up to over five hundred dollars. She invited her friends over for dinners. She didn’t have the money to cover the $500.00 phone bill or to buy additional food.

I had to have a serious conversation with her regarding her financial status. And how much money or how little money we had to contribute to her living expenses. We were paying for her school expenses and her art supplies while she attended the Hussian School of Art. Also, we put the first, last a deposit on her apartment and furnished it for her. We had purchased her cell phone.

The good news is that my daughter graduated at the top of her class and excelled in every area.

It’s difficult to stand by and let a child make decisions that you consider inappropriate or immature without considering the consequences of that decision.

It was the same when that child took his or her first stumbling steps when they started to walk. You stood several feet away with your arms outstretched. And let them come toward you, knowing full well that they will fall at first, possibly get hurt. But allowing them because this is the necessary process, we all go through in learning to walk — their first steps to becoming an independent person.

Your child matures from an infant to a toddler to a young child to adolescent to young adult. Many changes take place. There were decisions to be made. When can the child play outside without the mother or father’s watchful presence? When can I allow him or her to walk to a friend’s house unaccompanied? How far can she or he ride their bike? When are they old enough to be left home without supervision? And later when are they ready to date, hold a job, learn to drive a car.

Each child is an individual and must be treated as such. There is no rule book for parenting. Many times, it’s a trial or error process. There is always a learning curve in parenting. Especially the first time around. And even the second or third time can be completely different than the others.

But the most significant and relevant factor in parenting is consistent. Consistent in rules of behavior, consistent in discipline. Consistent in love and acceptance for the child as an individual.

Children need to have structure in their environment and stability in their parent’s behavior towards them. And also, in the type of behavior parents expect in return from them.

Although a mother or father’s role as parents never ceases throughout their child’s life, it does change. Change can be difficult at times for both parents and child. But ultimately, it is absolutely a necessity for growth.

When anyone’s child is living on their own and completely independent of their parents, it may seem that the parent has become irrelevant. But still one finds that even the adult child will need approval, acceptance, and love. No matter how old the child is, including when they have children of their own.

So, in a real way, a parent’s job is never finished but is an ongoing process.

To Be Or Not To Be A Parent-These Things I Know To Be True

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The decision to have children can be an easy decision to make, or it can be the most difficult decision you make in your lifetime.

My experience with this choice was no choice at all. I recall with absolute clarity that as a very young girl, I wanted children.

I came from a large family of six siblings. But my family was dissimilar than most of the children that I grew up within the 1950s and 1960s. The difference was that my fraternal twin and I were the youngest, and there was a wide age gap between the two of us and our older siblings. My older brother was almost twenty years older than we were. And my oldest sister was fifteen years older. And the next oldest was eight and seven years older.

As a result, my older siblings began marrying and having children when I was about ten years old. My sisters visited often and brought their babies and toddlers and little kids over to their grandparent’s house (my house) to visit. I fell in love with every one of these kids as they came along, beginning with my oldest niece, Maryellen. She was so smart, adorable, and affectionate. She was a happy baby. And her smiling baby face is one that I can still picture to this day.

Some kids at the age of ten or eleven might be jealous of the attention these little ones received, but I wasn’t, not for one moment. I looked forward to their visits with anticipation. When they arrived at our house, I would immediately want to take them to show them off to my friends and their families.

I started babysitting my nieces and nephews before I went to high school. I loved spending time with them. There has never been a more dotting aunt than I was. I resolved that I too would become a mother someday.

I met the future father of my children when I was quite young. I didn’t have to look that far. As it turned out my best childhood girlfriend, Joanie had a boy cousin that I had known. I decided that this was the person I would marry. In fact, as an adult, after we were married, my mother told me that when I was about ten, I told her that Bobby Culver and I were going to get married someday.

And we did marry in 1974 when I just turned twenty-three and Bob turned twenty-five. Bob recently returned from serving in the Navy during the Viet Nam war. Bob decided to go to school to study photography. He attended Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara, Ca.

As we all know, life doesn’t always follow the script we write. It takes its course and then there are the occasional bumps in the road or roadblocks.

I hit a roadblock. My doctor informed me that I was infertile for unknown reasons. After years of Doctor’s visits and tests, I was able to conceive and give birth when I was thirty in 1981. There was never a happier pregnant young woman than I. Even though I had morning sickness for almost the entire pregnancy.

Jeanette was a beautiful baby. I can remember the day we brought her home from the hospital as if it was yesterday. We put her in the borrowed bassinet. Bob and I stared at her all day. We are waiting for her to wake up. We could hardly believe that we had created this beautiful child. She seemed a miracle to us.

When you bring your baby home, it is like falling in love. It is an all-encompassing feeling. If you remember the first time, you fell in love. It is a similar feeling except you are responsible for the health, the safety of this fragile dependent creature. And it’s your responsibility to teach your child how to talk, walk, eat, dress. You will always be their parent, even after you pass from this life. It is an awesome responsibility.

Jeanette said her first word, light when she was four months old. And she spoke in full sentences before she was two and a half. Jeanette is highly intelligent. And challenging first child. She didn’t sleep through the night until she was almost three. She could climb like a monkey. I had to put gates everywhere. Between the dining room and the kitchen because Jeanette would climb on top of the stove, and climb up the stairs.

She scaled the dining room chairs and climbed on top of the dining room table and dance on it. I would find her balancing on top of the rocking chair and rocking it. She accomplished these acrobatic feats in the blink of an eye. You might think I wasn’t watching her, but Jeanette would be there one second and gone the next. And there she was on top of the dining room table.

When Jeanette was about two and a half, we decided she would benefit from having a sibling. And so, in time, her sister, Bridget was born in January of 1984.

To say that Jeanette was happy by this turn of events would be an outright lie. She had a raging case of sibling rivalry. We had to put a gate in the doorway of the baby’s room. If Jeanette made her way into Bridget’s bedroom, she would climb into the crib and jump up and down. Yelling, “I’m giving the baby a ride.”

Over time as Bridget grew and Jeanette was able to play with her and Jeanette’s tolerance for her new sister grew to acceptance.

Bridget was a happy baby, smiling and easily pacified if she cried. Once she learned to crawl, she followed Jeanette everywhere with her stuffed bear between her arms and legs. Bridget sucked her thumb until she was four. But somehow, she could speak clearly with that thumb planted firmly in her mouth. Bridget learned many new words by listening to Jeanette talk.

So, although their personalities were very different, they did have similar talents and interests. They loved games and puzzles and drawing and creating things. They both came to love reading as I took them to the library every week throughout their childhood.

There were never children born that were loved more than Jeanette and Bridget. I spent every moment of my life playing and talking to them and teaching them. I was a stay at home mother for seven years.

The good news is that by the time Jeanette graduated from highschool with Bridget three years behind her, they developed a better relationship.

And here they are now grown women who are as close as sisters can be. And they’re each other’s best friends even though they live eight hundred miles apart.

In conclusion, I would like to say becoming a parent is both a blessing and a challenge. Everyone who has children brings more love into their lives. But having children also brings fear. Fear that something unforeseen may happen to your precious child. If you are strong enough to bear that fear, then being a parent is a choice for you. My life without my children would have been narrower, less challenging. I would have missed out on one of my life’s most fulfilling experiences.

Life Brings Joy and Happiness and Loss- These Things I Know To Be True

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During my life, I’ve been fortunate enough to experience many joyful events. I witnessed my older siblings get married and have fourteen beautiful children and watch them grow up. I loved each one of them.

I met and fell in love with the man with whom I have shared my entire adult life. I’ve given birth to my two daughters, Jeanette and Bridget. I was able to nurture and love them and teach them what I had learned during my life. I had the opportunity at thirty-six to attend college. My daughter’s learned it’s never too late to learn and grow in life.

I lived in diverse and beautiful places. I grew up in the North East in New Jersey. I lived in Florida and California in the 1970s. I have retired to North Carolina.

In my work life, I had the opportunity to give back to my fellow man. I worked in social services with at-risk children who had an incarcerated parent. I worked with the Amache Program with Wilson Goode and Big Brothers/Big Sisters.

I worked as an Assistant Supervisor and houseparent at Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ. to adolescent boys from inner cities including Camden, NJ.

I owned and operated two small businesses. Teaching art to children and adults in my art studios and making jewelry and selling it online.

Life offers us many opportunities, blessings, and challenges. We can grow from these experiences, or they can break us.

Life can be a smooth or unexpectantly bumpy and tumultuous path. We have to learn to navigate both.

There is an old but true expression. That into every life rain must fall.

When I was twenty- eight years old, my oldest sister Jeanie passed away. She was forty-two years old. She developed breathing difficulties when she was about twenty-seven years old. She was tested and diagnosed with a genetic disorder called alpha 1 antitrypsin disorder. It causes symptoms similar to emphysema. In that, it affects the lungs. She also had hemochromatosis, which is a blood disorder that causes a build-up on iron in the liver. That causes affects all your organs. It’s a disease that seems to affect people whose family’s origins are Celtic countries, such as Ireland, England, Scotland, and the Welsh.

Jeanie was sick for a long time. She was the bravest person I have ever known. Almost to the very end of her life, she maintained her sense of humor and her undaunting courage.

My sister’s death had a profound and lasting effect on myself and my entire family and her husband and two children, who were teenagers at the time. My mother and father were devastated by her death. My father seemed angry after she passed. He told me he was mad because no parent should outlive their child.

I came back to New Jersey for the funeral. I knew she was very sick and had been for years. But I had never reconciled myself to the fact that she wouldn’t recover. Or the fact that she was going to die from this disease.

When my older brother Hugh called me and told me she had passed away, it was a harsh blow. One I had not prepared myself for in any way. I had lived away from home for over six years and hadn’t seen her.

Every day for a year after her death when I woke up, I thought about my sister, Jeanie. I would never see her again. Every day this broke my heart anew. I would feel a wave of pain roll over me. And I would feel like I was drowning in that pain. Grief and regret were my companions. I regretted all the years that I had missed seeing her when I lived far away from her and my family. Years I could never recover. Opportunities lost. Every day for almost a year whenever I was alone, I would cry. When I was driving to work, I would have to pull over until I was able to get my emotions under control. I began having insomnia. I would awake in the middle of the night. And grief would wash over me like the tide.

About a year after my sister’s death, my husband graduated from college, and we moved back to New Jersey. I could see that my mother and father and siblings still felt my sister’s absence in some profound way.

But we each in our way started to carry on with our lives and move forward. My husband found a job. And we purchased our first home. We started a family. Somehow, we and anyone who loses a loved one must begin living their lives again.

Two years after my sister passed, I gave birth to my first child, and I named her Jeanette after my sister Jeanie. I could think of no finer gift to give my first child than to name her after my sister that I loved and admired so profoundly.

It has been forty years since my sister passed. And I and the rest of my siblings have endured the loss of my parents within eight months of one another.

My father died of lung cancer in 1986. And my mother had dementia, and congestive heart failure died eight months later. One of my nephews passed in 2001. My husband lost his father. He died from emphysema when he was only sixty-two. My mother-in-law died at ninety-two, but she suffered from Alzheimer’s for many years before she passed. It is a slow and painful death to watch.

My sister-in-law Mary Ann passed away two years ago. My oldest brother Hugh passed away a year ago last April. As did my dear brother-in-law Jake passed away last April, three days after my brother. I had known him since I was ten years old. He was the kindest, most generous person I ever met. Always willing to lend a helping hand.

So yes, we all know that life is fleeting. That none of us will live forever. But it’s a devastating loss when our loved one’s pass, our dear friends or god forbid one of our children, but it happens.

We must all carry on with our lives, taking each day one at a time. We must move forward and adjust to the loss. Our loved ones who passed would want nothing less than for us to go on living our lives to the fullest. And find our happiness once again.

One Is The Loneliest Number- These Things I Know To Be True

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If there is one challenge in life that I have struggled with the most, it’s loneliness. There have been periods in my life that I felt bereft of friends.

I suppose to the people I have known throughout my life, my loneliness may be impossible to understand. It may seem as if I made a deliberate decision to spend the majority of my time in my own company.

As an artist, as a writer, it’s essential to spend time creating, contemplating the world around me. I’m often deep in thought. All of these activities require time spent alone.

When I was a young child, I spent an enormous amount of my time alone. I lived in my imagination. I used to pretend that I was a bird and could fly. I made up stories and drew pictures. I read every book in the library. I walked around my neighborhood and visited all the neighbor’s pets. I would talk to my neighbor Thelma Collins’ cats for hours at a time. She had an outside fenced in cat run area, and her twenty plus cats were free to go in and out of her house.

It wasn’t until I was an adult my siblings told me that they always thought I was an odd child. Different than other children they knew. I was sensitive. And my feelings were easily hurt. I told stories about my adventures in the neighborhood. They believed I fabricated these tales. Which I suppose I did. But the stories were real to me. I talked to animals as if they were my dear friends, and they were. So yes, I suppose I was not an ordinary child.

I had a best friend, Joanie and a whole neighborhood of other kids that played with me. We rode our bikes all over town, roller skated, played hide and seek, chased lightning bugs. All the activities children had in the nineteen fifties and nineteen sixties.

When I was old enough to go to elementary school, I made a group of friends. Kids who were smart and funny.

Somehow as an adult, I lost the gift or the know-how to make friends. As a child, if you saw someone you thought could be your friend, you would walk up to them, and say, “Hey do you want to be my friend?” And then you had a new friend. It’s not that easy as an adult. You get married, have children, a job. You have responsibilities, not as much free time.

When my husband and I bought our first house, we started a family. We had two daughters, three years apart. I loved being a mother. I enjoyed spending my time taking care of them and teaching them. But I will be the first to admit being home with small children can be isolating. You don’t have a great deal of free time. The only adult I spent any real time was my husband when he came home from work.

If you return to work when the children are young, you interact with other adults. If you are a stay at home mom as I was for seven years, it can be isolating. Or at least that was my experience.

When I was thirty-six years old, I decided to go to college. I attended Temple University at the Tyler Campus in Philadelphia. I earned a degree in Fine Arts and Art Education. I was the only student who wasn’t the traditional age of eighteen in the Undergraduate Program.

I can’t say enough good things about going to college as an adult. I was a dedicated, motivated student with a tremendous desire to succeed and learn. I loved going to class with young students. Their energy, their confidence was inspiring.

It was difficult going to school and raising two young children. I didn’t sleep a great deal during those four years, about three hours a night. But I loved every minute of it. I graduated when I was forty years old.

Fast forward to retirement age. My husband and I retired to North Carolina three years ago. The cost of living and real estate taxes are so much lower here than New Jersey.

So here we are in an area where we didn’t know a living soul. We found that our neighbors preferred keeping to themselves. We rarely see them outside, except when they cut their grass. We take a walk every night with our dog Douglas and wave at anyone we see and attempt to make conversation.

I volunteered with the Guardian Ad Litem. I met people who dedicate their lives and their free time to helping children whose families are involved with the family court.

I volunteer three mornings a week at a wild animal sanctuary called Animal Edventure, where I met many caring people who dedicate their lives caring for rescued exotic animals. The majority of these people are under the age of twenty-five.

In conclusion, I would like to say that I have found being lonely can happen at any stage of life. It can happen to anyone at any time. Loneliness is part of the human condition. I have come to accept solitude as part of my life.

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