Category Archives: I know these things to be true

Being Your Own Best Friend and Advocate- These things I know to be true

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Being Your Own Best Friend and Advocate

Life throws many challenges our way. We can not avoid them. We must face them head on. There are times in our life when something happens that is difficult to face. We rather turn the other way and pretend it’s not happening. It doesn’t mean you are weak. It means you are human. We are vulnerable. We experience physical and emotional pain.

I’m not a young woman anymore. I have lived a long time. I have experienced much joy and loss in my life. I come from a family with six children. I had siblings that were considerably older than I was. My only brother was nineteen years old when I was born. He passed away last year. He was a father, grandfather, husband, and psychologist.

My oldest sister Jeanie died on my fifth wedding anniversary on July 13th, 1979. When I was twenty-eight years old. She was only forty-one. She died from Alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency which is a genetic disorder that causes lung disease or liver disease.  Her lung problems became apparent when she was about twenty-seven years old. She had two young children. She suffered from shortness of breath, wheezing, and lung infections. Ultimately her lungs were so compromised that she ran out of breath. Because she wasn’t getting enough oxygen to her brain towards the end of her life, she developed a type of dementia.

Despite how ill my sister was she never lost her sense of humor. She kept moving forward in her life. Did the best that she could to continue being a loving mother and wife.

When I was in my early thirties my parents became ill. My dad was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. About the same time my mother started exhibiting symptoms of dementia. I have to say that this was one of the most difficult challenges of my life. Facing the fact that I was going to lose my parents. And taking care of them was very hard. They died eight months apart. My memory of the first year after they passed was a sense of overwhelming loss. Everyday when I awoke my first thought was, I’m an orphan. Even though I was thirty-five at the time. I still miss my parents to this day.

Early in 2008 when I was fifty-six years old, I started experiencing cardiac symptoms. At night I could feel my heart beating irregularly, during the day I noticed that I became short of breath when I walked up steps or any incline. I didn’t tell anyone at first not even my husband. I decided to go to my primary physician and have a check-up. I explained my symptoms to her. She performed an EKG. She told me she didn’t see any problems. She didn’t feel I had any need to be concerned. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. 

After all, I never drank alcohol, never did drugs, never smoked. I had been a vegetarian for over twenty years. I was rarely sick. I exercised everyday of my life. I kept asking myself why would I be sick? I never did anything to endanger my health. Of course, neither did my sister Jeannie.

My heart continued to exhibit negative symptoms. I had angina pains that ran up my left arm and into my jaw. I started having arrythmias all day, which are irregular heartbeats. Even picking up and carrying the lightest burden became impossible. If I needed to pick up even the lightest object, like my purse. It felt very heavy. I finally confided what was happening to my husband. He told me to go to the doctors. The second physician I went to prescribed several more tests. She called and told me that the left side of my heart was not working quite as well as the right side but that it was nothing to worry about.

I disagreed with her. I told her I felt there was indeed something serious going on with my heart. I wanted a referral to a cardiologist. She became quite angry with me and told me once again it was unnecessary. But she gave me a referral.

The cardiologist did many tests, an EKG, an echocardiogram and a cardiac catherization and tilt table test and a pulmonary stress test. When I went to the follow up visit after the tests, this is what he said, “you are now a heart patient. You have left heart failure. Your ejection rate of your left heart is 40. It is supposed to be 60. You have a twenty-five percent chance of surviving five years.” He gave me prescriptions for several heart medications. Which they would start out at low doses and gradually titrate up over several months.

I was stunned. Somehow, I always felt that I was invulnerable to getting a serious illness. But nonetheless I did. The first year was tough, getting used to the meds wasn’t easy, but the depression and anger I felt was often difficult to bear. Gradually I started feeling better. I became less depressed and started living my life again, one day at a time.

I would like to share with you and essay I wrote after I received the diagnosis of heart disease.

Yesterday I was told that my heart was broken. Well they are not the exact words that the doctor used. He used big, important words like, congestive heart failure, and weakened heart valve, cardiac insufficiency. Cause unknown. I knew for the past several months that my body was trying to tell me something. I told myself I am just tired, stressed out, poor coping skills. But deep down I knew my heart was telling me something serious. Wake up, pay attention, and listen!

I stared at the doctor. I said,” I just cannot believe it, I’m so, so shocked. He said,” yes, it’s true you are just a cardiac patient now.” My mind refused to believe that I could now be defined with these few insignificant words.” I said to myself, this is not who I am, I’m so much more than this. I’m an artist, teacher, writer and lover of all living things, mother, wife, sister, aunt, and friend.

I hadn’t been a very good friend to myself, I felt angry, I don’t know who I was angry at. I felt cheated, but I don’t know whom, or what had cheated me. I had spent many years trying to deny any possibility of being frail human, I ate all the right things, exercised every day, never smoke or drank. Why, why me? Why not me, I said deep inside.

Certainly, my life had been stressful, for a long, long time. I didn’t always make good choices, I trusted the wrong people, gave my heart away bit by bit to people who didn’t deserve it. People took big chunks of my heart with them when they left. I often felt unloved, unaccepted, unfulfilled, unwanted. Always reaching out for love, acceptance, never really feeling loved in return.

Indeed, my heart was broken. But maybe, I can find a way to patch it up, pull it together, if I can find all the missing parts. Yes, I told myself I would begin today, put myself back together. Mend my heart. Learn to love myself, accept myself, and bring fulfillment to the heart that had broken in so many small and big ways.

That was eleven years ago. At first, I didn’t think I would live long enough to retire, or see my husband retire. But I have. And here I am living in North Carolina. We moved here three years ago. I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary taking care of exotic birds. I’m still painting and writing. I spend long hours in my garden tending my garden. I have adopted three new pets a longhaired dachshund named Douglas and two parrots named BB and Travis. And still have my two cats Sloopy who will be twenty-five this year and Evie who will be nineteen.

In conclusion. I would like to say that you should listen to your body. It will tell you when there is something wrong. Listen to it. If I didn’t pay attention to the symptoms that I was experiencing I wouldn’t no longer be alive. You have to stand up to people no matter who they are and make them listen to you. Keep trying until they do listen. Or go to a different doctor who will. If you don’t, who will? You must be your own best friend and advocate, always.

Your life has meaning, it has value. You can do good in the world. And the world will be a lesser place without you in it.

GIVE BACK AND HELP AS MANY AS PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE

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The secret to living a fulfilling life is giving. If you have been fortunate in your life, if other people have given you support when you needed it, pay it forward.  Do it often as it is possible. This is a lesson I learned early in my adult life. When I moved to Florida at twenty-two the only people, I knew were my soon to be husband, Bob and his immediate family.

I applied for a job at B.D. Cole which was an insurance company in West Palm Beach. I had been working there for about two months when I took off two days off because I was getting married. I took a very short honeymoon in Miami.

When I returned to work, I was called into the office and handed a large gift-wrapped box in wedding paper with a beautiful satin bow on it. The attached card said Congratulations on your nuptials, it was signed by all the employees of BD Cole.

I said, “oh, thank you so much for your gift.”  As I was about to leave the office to go back to work my boss said, “Oh Susan, just one more thing. I’m sorry but we are going to have to lay you off because we are having some financial problems. And all the recently hired people are being laid off.”

Saying I was shocked is an understatement. I was floored. At the end of the day, I cleaned out my desk and left without saying anything to anyone. I went back to my apartment and had myself a good cry. I was still crying when my husband of three days came home from work.

I explained to him what had happened and he said,” don’t worry Susie you’ll find a new job.” But I didn’t. I looked for a job for several months. But I became aware that most companies in Florida at that time had a policy of not hiring people who hadn’t lived in Florida as a permanent resident for at least six months to a year.

I decided to go to hairdresser’s school. I can’t remember just why I thought this was a good choice for me. Since, I never had any interest in even my own hair. Perhaps it was the only training available at the time that only took nine months. After I graduated, I was hired at the Colonnades Hotel on Singer Island doing facials. I decided that I would look for a volunteer position since giving facials was not very challenging.

And that was when I realized my true calling, helping other people. My first volunteer position was with an organization called Childcare Assistance for Special Children. And during the next several years that I lived in Florida I volunteered as a fill-in houseparent for a home for mentally handicapped adults when the regular houseparent took vacations. I leaned how to do physical therapy for two young brothers who suffered form Cystic Fibrosis. 

My husband Bob and I moved to California so he could attend Brooks Institute to study photography. My first job didn’t last long I was hired to sell hats and wigs at Robinson’s Department Store. To say I was bored is an understatement.

I was lucky enough to be hired as a houseparent at St. Vincent’s a residential school in Santa Barbara. My position was houseparent for a group of adolescent girls with a variety of physical and learning disabilities including mental retardation. It was the most rewarding position I have ever had in my entire adult life. Those girls taught me more about life, and courage and love than any other people I ever known.

Because of the positive experience I had working at St. Vincent’s I continued throughout my life to try to contribute to other people’s well-being and quality of life. Whenever, I saw an opportunity. Because, in helping others, I helped myself immensely. I felt my life had true meaning, that I was contributing to making the world a better place. It has given me a sense of worth that I would not have realized in any other way.

Over the next several years, I took classes in teaching Basic Skills and English as a Second Language. I taught Basic Skills to people trying to get their GED. Some went on to higher education. They were able to earn a better living and help their families financially.

I taught English as a Second Language to immigrants from India, China, Bosnia and Serbia. There aren’t words to describe what a wonderful opportunity this was for me.

As a second generation American I had the ability to help other people from across the world to find a new life in our country. A life with more opportunities for themselves and their families. A chance for them to contribute to our country as all previous immigrants have. America is a country of immigrants.

In my paid positions, I worked as a houseparent and Assistant Supervisor at Terrell Cottage at Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ. Which is a residential treatment program for at-risk adolescent boys from inner cities such as Camden and Trenton NJ.

I worked at Center for Family Service in Camden, NJ in a program called Project Cope which matched children who had an incarcerated parent with a member of five churches in Camden. It was a partnership with Big Brothers, Big Sister Program. I took my training through the Amache Program in Philadelphia run by former mayor of Philadelphia, Wilson Goode, the first black mayor of a major city in America.

In conclusion, I would like to say without doubt that no one can create a better life for themselves than in the service of his fellowman. It gives back a thousand-fold. Could I have made more money somewhere else? Yes, probably. But I would not have had the opportunity to work with all the caring and wonderful human beings I have known. I wouldn’t have met people from every walk of life, people from all over the world. I wouldn’t have been able to feel that my life was as well-spent.

These Things I Know To Be True

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Words Matter

When I consider the things that have most shaped my personality, my self-esteem and my self-identity it was another person’s words that built me up or knocked me down. Words have power. The power to hurt or heal. 

When I was very young, before I attended school my parents and my siblings’ words defined me. They created my reality. Gave me a sense of who I was in the narrow world I occupied, my home, my neighborhood.

I didn’t comprehend that some of these words were said in anger or perhaps annoyance. I was a very sensitive and thoughtful child. My feelings were easily hurt.  Harsh words often felt like a physical blow to me. Apologies are not often made to children. It is impossible to take words back once they are uttered. It’s possible for words thoughtlessly said to a child to permanently affect their perception about themselves and who they will ultimately become.

The words that I recall my parents saying to me as a young child that stayed with me throughout my life are these: Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about. Get that look off your face, I don’t know what your problem is. Are stupid or just lazy? You can’t say boo to Susan, she will start crying. You’re crying, what now? I’ll give you something to cry about.

These words seem to dictate to me at the time that my feelings were invalid. That I wasn’t  Words have power. The power to hurt or heal.  supposed to cry or at least let people see me cry. That I was stupid. As a result, I learned to hide my feelings, keep things to myself. Hide who I was from the people who were supposed to care for me the most. My family often remarked how quiet I was, how I kept my feelings to myself. When they were the ones who taught me to do this to protect myself.

My parents and siblings were not terrible people. They weren’t abusive. They were just overworked, tired people who lived in close quarters and struggled everyday to get by with less than they needed. It was often difficult to make ends meet. The same problems people now have. Overworked, underpaid, too much month left when the money is used up.

As I matured, I made an effort to be more aware of the words I used when I spoke to other people. I tried to keep in mind that hurtful words did indeed hurt people. I certainly was not and am not perfect. I lose my temper and say things out of anger to people that I love and care about. When I calm down, I apologize for what I said and tell them I didn’t mean it. I strive to be a better, more considerate person. I am not always successful. I remember each day, is a new beginning.

In addition, when I see someone is doing the right thing, putting great effort to do their best, I tell them what a great job they are doing. And how proud I am of them. When a friend or an acquaintance looks nice. I complement them. How much effort does it take to say, “Hey, you look fantastic today?

Words truly have power to lift someone up or do put them down and crush their spirit. If you consider the last time someone told you how great you were doing. Didn’t this positive reinforcement spur you on to do more and better in whatever you were working on?

If a friend or loved one comes to you and confides in you about some personal struggle, are you open to listening, really listening to them? Do you offer them support and a caring heart without judgement? Or do you blow them off because you’re too busy? Put yourself in their place, wouldn’t you want this same friend or love one to care about you, to support you when your life is a struggle at times?

How great would our world be? If you, me and everyone we know arose from our beds everyday with the idea that we’re capable of making the world a better place just by being in it. And treating the people we meet and see during our day with a kind word, a supporting word? How difficult is it to say, “Hello, have a great day?” To the people we meet along the way.

You are doing a great job. I can see how much work and effort you are putting into everything you do. I see how hard you are doing, I’m proud of you. I have faith that you can succeed at whatever goal you set for yourself. You are a decent and kind person. I feel lucky to have you in my life. You make the world a better place, by you being a part of it. I love you. I care for you. I am here for you. I consider you my dear friend.

Words are that powerful, they create our reality. Use words with great care my friends. How great would our world be? You tell me.

To Forgive And Forget That Is The Question

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These Things I know To Be True

Forgiveness is man’s deepest need and his highest achievement (Horace Bushnell)

Having said that I believe you have a choice to forgive the person that has harmed you and yet decide not continue that relationship. Or you can forgive this person who has harmed you and to ask for fairness or justice. As it isn’t possible for you and this person to step back in time and undo the harm it has done to you or the relationship.

I have been struggling to forgive my older sister for over four years. I along with my sister and my niece and a friend of hers were invited to have lunch at my oldest sister’s house. While we were having lunch, my oldest sister started saying very hurtful and inappropriate remarks about my marriage. I was stunned and kept saying,” who are you talking about?” Over and over again. Everyone was laughing at my reaction to what my sister was saying. 

I was so devastated by this experience that I just got up and left without saying anything. A week later I called her and try to explain to her how much she had hurt me. She had the opportunity to say she was sorry in that moment but she didn’t take it. She became extremely angry at me and told me I had no right to criticize her. She repeated the hateful things she had said to me at her house. And then she hung up on me. I was so shocked that I thought somehow the call had been disconnected. I called her back. The phone machine picked up and I just kept repeating her name. She never called me back.

The negative feelings that I harbored toward her were nearly as painful to me as the harsh and harmful words she said to me. If she wasn’t a person that I loved and felt connected to at a deep level, I would not have felt so betrayed.

I spoke to my other two sisters and explained how upset I was by this event. The sister who was present during the incident said, “Oh, we weren’t laughing at you. We were laughing at how she said it.” My other sister, said, “Forget it. As she is under a lot of pressure. This dismissive attitude toward my feelings deepened the injury my older sister caused.

Over the next months I became depressed and angry. I stayed angry for the next several years. I stopped painting and writing. It is only in the last year that I started writing again.

My husband and I prepared to retire and made the decision to move to another state that was more affordable. And also, to remove me from a place that constantly reminded me of my sister and what had happened between us. During the next two years after we moved away both my older brother and his wife passed away. I didn’t return for the funerals. I couldn’t bare the thought of seeing my oldest sister.

Last Spring, my sister wrote me a note. It said.

I’m so sorry for all the things I did that hurt you. I never intended to hurt you. If you can forgive me. I will always be grateful. You were always kind to me and my husband. I will always remember those times. Your sister. E.

I made the decision to forgive her. I hope this act will have the effect of healing my heart and release the pain I have felt for the past four years. I will make every effort to let go of this painful experience and move forward in my life with a lighter spirit and love in my heart to replace all the pain that was living there.

My enduring hope is that having forgiven my sister for this transgression that I’m able to feel that I have a family again.

These Things I Know To Be True

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The words I love you cannot be heard or said too often.

I believe in these words with all my heart. However, having said that I would like to add that I have always had difficulty saying these words. My difficulty in expressing these words stems from growing up in a family where my parents never said “I love you.” My mother and father did not hug us. They didn’t show affection toward each other in front of us.

Still, in my heart I knew my mother and father did loved me. I knew it because they worked tirelessly everyday of their lives to keep a roof over our heads, feed us and put clothes on our backs. There were six children in my family.

My mother was the youngest in a very large Irish Catholic family. Her parents emigrated to America at the turn of the century to find a better life. Her mother was bedridden for most of my mother’s childhood. She had ALS, Lew Gehrig’s Disease. My mother had to take care of her own mother and father and her brothers and two aunts because she was the sole daughter. Her family spent all their energy just trying to survive.

She married my father when she was nineteen years old.

My paternal grandparents immigrated from Ireland from County Down Patrick. My Dad’s father died from uremic poisoning when he was five. His mother had to support them by herself, she was a seamstress. She made the decision to place my father at Gerard College in Philadelphia. It was a residential military school in Philadelphia for boys. Who only had one living parent. He lived there from the time he was seven until he was seventeen. He saw his mother once or twice a year. As you can imagine he didn’t receive many hugs during those years.

When I was a little girl about nine or ten years old, I told my mother that I wish she was more like my best friend Joanie’s mother. My mother said, “What do you mean, Susie?” I answered, “Joanie’s Mom is always kissing her, and telling her how much she loves her.”

When my mother was at the end of her life, she said these words to me.” Susie, the most hurtful words ever said to me were when you told me that you wished I was more like Joanie’s mother.”

I was about thirty-four years old at that time. I thought about the words I had said to my mother and I was sorry that I hurt her. But still, how painful for a child such as myself to go throughout her entire childhood without ever having been told, “I love you,” from either of her parents. How sad I felt for my younger self and yet how brave I was to ask for those words and not receive them. I cried that day for my mother and for myself.

When I was twenty-one years old, I fell in love with my best friend Joanie’s cousin Bob. He had just gotten out of the Navy after serving during the war in Viet Nam. He stopped in NJ to visit my friend Joan on his way home to Florida. Joan asked if I would be interested in going out with him while he was visiting. And since I always had a crush on him. I said yes. And he was the first boy that kissed me when we were playing hid and seek. After he went back home to Florida, we corresponded by phone and mail. And I visited him in Florida. After I returned home, we continued to keep in contact and eventually I decided to move there. We were married the following year. I had just turned twenty-three. This was in 1974.

In 1999 Bob and I celebrated our 25th Anniversary. By then we had two children. Who were eighteen and fifteen. I would like to share a letter that I wrote to Bob on that anniversary.

Dear Bob,

This year marks the 25th year that we spent together as a married couple. It’s a long time. And in that time, there has always been one sustaining fact. And that fact is that I love you deeply. We have passed some very difficult times together.          Times when we didn’t have a pot to piss in, to use an old Irish expression. When we were younger, we didn’t have a great many things or money. It didn’t seem that important then. We always got through somehow. Because we had each other.

As time passed somehow “things” became more important. Certainly, we have accumulated a great many things in the past twenty-five years. But, if there was ever a choice put to me, Susan, you have to give up the things, the big house or Bob. I would say without hesitation, I want Bob. You are the most important person in my life. You are my best and most loyal friend. My life without you in it would be no life at all.

After our children grow up and move out. There will still be me and you and that will be enough. I know I don’t tell you often enough how much I love you. But I do very much. More than I could ever express in words. I love your intelligence, your integrity. I admire your dedication to your work. The kindness, and respect you show toward the people in your life. 

We may not be a perfect match, but it is a love match. I feel blessed to have you in my life. I look forward to the many years of life we have to spend together yet.

And now this week on July 13th   2019 Bob and I will be celebrating our 45th Wedding Anniversary. We are retired now and live in North Carolina. We spend our days together doing the things that we love. He with his photography and me writing and painting and gardening.

And so, this last bit of advice, make every effort to tell the people in your lives how much you love them and how much they mean to you. Because life passes quickly. It seems like a blink of an eye.

These things I know to be True

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Do not let your age define or limit you

Aging happens, there is no stopping it. You can’t avoid it. Accept it as a normal part of life and keep moving forward. But what is more important is what you do with that time.

When I graduated from high school in 1969, I was hired for my first real job working as a dental assistant. I discovered things about myself I was unaware of until then. I was intelligent, had an amazing memory, wasn’t as shy as I thought I was. I just lacked confidence.

The longer I worked, the more confidence I gained. I came to realize that I was a capable, motivated, organized person. It didn’t happen overnight, it happened over time. I learned who I was, and what I was capable of accomplishing.

When I was twenty -one I was hired at Ancora State Mental Hospital as a psychiatric aide in the active psyche ward. I worked there for one year. I came away from that experience with a deeper understanding of how life can damage people. I became aware that I could help people heal themselves through kindness, understanding, by listening without judgment.

When I was twenty-two, I fell in love and moved to Florida and married Bob. We will be celebrating our forty-fifth anniversary on July 13th, in two weeks. After living in Florida for several years Bob decided he wanted to go to school to study photography in Santa Barbara. I became more independent and self-reliant in California because Bob was going to school and working a full-time job and we didn’t get to spend much time together. I found a job I loved, working with children and made new friends.

When Bob graduated from school, we decided to move back to New Jersey to live near my family. I wanted to have children. I had difficulty getting pregnant. The doctors told me I was too old. I was too old to have children at twenty-nine.

I learned to have patience and not to give up hope. Eventually, I had my daughter Jeanette and then three years later my daughter Bridget.

When I was thirty-six, I decided I wanted to go back to school and get a degree. I was accepted at four different Universities in Philadelphia. I chose Temple, Tyler School of Art. For the next four years, I studied, I learned and worked as hard as any person could. I only got three hours of sleep a night. I didn’t want my children to feel that their mom wasn’t there for them. So, I did all my homework, and painting, drawing and studying after they went to bed.

I learned to set goals and to achieve them. It took hard work and perseverance. My kids learned that a woman can be a mother and an individual. Both of my daughters grew up to be artists. I was forty when I graduated from school with two degrees, Summa Cum Laude.

Fast forward to 2019. I am sixty-eight years old. I retired three years ago from working but I’m still an artist. I’m writing, I started this blog and I’m publishing my memoirs and short stories. I have written a book. I volunteer three mornings a week at an animal Sanctuary taking care of Exotic birds. I was a citizen volunteer for the Guardian ad litem for the family court in NC.

Am I a young woman anymore? No. But I ‘m still living my life to the fullest living in a new place, having new experiences and learning new things every day. I keep moving forward. I don’t let my age or other people define who I am. And neither should you.

THESE THINGS I KNOW TO BE TRUE

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The more love you feel and give to others, the more you receive in return

It was 1976. Bob and I had been residing in California for one year. When we first arrived, I found a job as a chairside assistant at an oral surgeon’s office in Santa Barbara. We were living in Lompoc. Which is about a half hour drive to Santa Barbara.  Doctor Snyder, the oral surgeon I was working for had a habit of calling me at home at the last minute to tell me the patient for the morning had cancelled. Sometimes I would arrive at his office and he would tell me to go home. Gas was $.59 a gallon in 1976 and I was making minimum wage which was $2.30 an hour. Which wouldn’t have been that bad except sometimes I only worked ten hours a week. I lasted six months at this job.

My next position was at Robinson’s Department Store in Santa Barbara. I worked in sales, selling hats and wigs. If there is a more boring job in the world, I hate to think what that might be. I had to stand at the counter and look busy. Doing what I have no clue.  On a good day I had one maybe two customers per day. I started looking for another job after the first month. A fellow employee at Robinsons told me about St. Vincent’s School on Calle Real Drive in Santa Barbara. It was a residential school for mentally disabled children.

I found my way to the school, and filled out an application. Did I mention that I have absolutely no sense of direction?

No one contacted me. I began a campaign to get hired there. I called St. Vincent’s two, three times a week. I sent letters. After a month and a half, they called me in for an interview. They called me back within the week and hired me.

St. Vincent’s School was run by The Daughters of Charity Catholic nuns. I was hired as a houseparent in the Laboures Group to take care of and assist sixteen girls ages twelve to seventeen.

My kids participating in Special Olympics

My kids participating in Special Olympics

I was assigned a split shift. I arrived at the school before the girls were awake about seven in the morning. I woke them up and supervised them until it was time for school to begin. I walked them to school which was on the same grounds as the residence. I came back when they were dismissed at three pm.

The children that resided at St. Vincent’s had a multitude of disabilities, Down’s Syndrome, Autism, Prader Willie Syndrome and mental retardation. But to me, they just became my kids. I don’t think I could have loved these kids anymore if they were my own. I didn’t look at them as disable kids. I looked at them as children who needed an adult’s love, care, guidance and acceptance.

I taught them self-care, table manners, how to make their beds and personal hygiene. I helped them with their homework. I taught them how to make their beds. I ate all my meals with them.

At night I watched TV or played games with them, helped them write letters to their families. I took them on outings for picnics, shopping for new clothes, the movies. I enjoyed every minute of the time I spent with them.

On Saturdays, which was my day off my husband Bob and I would take one of them out for the day to the mountains, or swimming at our apartment pool or into town. The same kind of activities that you would enjoy with your own children. A few girls wanted to learn how to sew so when it was there turn to spend a day with me, I taught them the basics of sewing.

I have had many jobs since those days, but I can tell you in all honesty that working at St. Vincent’s with those awesome kids was the best position I ever had. I experienced all the good things with them, love, acceptance and being needed, respect. I was making a positive impact on their lives. Whatever I gave to them they returned to me tenfold.

When my husband completed his education at Brooks Institute. I gave my notice. It had been seven years since I had lived in my home state of NJ. And my parents were getting older and I wanted to spend time with them. I wanted my future children to know their grandparents. I have never had a day I felt so sad, as the day I said good-bye to those wonderful girls, and the staff of young women and men that worked at St. Vincent’s School. I wrote the kids for many years until they left St. Vincent’s.

Picture of me and one of my co-workers Stacy Smitter

I look back on those days in California with gratitude and happy memories. Bob and I had the opportunity to be young and free. Live in one of the most beautiful places in the world. And get to know those children. It was a blessing. I often wonder what became of them. But I can only hope that they went on be happy in their lives. And were on the receiving end of all the good things in life, which they so richly deserved.

I KNOW THESE THINGS TO BE TRUE

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Things I Know To Be True

The smallest act of kindness can have a tremendous positive impact on other people and on your own happiness.

Bob and I were married in 1974. We were living in Jupiter, Florida. Bob’s lifelong dream was to become a professional photographer. He had recently been discharged from the Navy. He served during the Viet Nam War. As a vet he knew he would be able to get Veterans Benefits to help pay for his education to attend school.

He applied to and was accepted into Brooks Institute, a photography school in Santa Barbara, Ca. We had only been married a couple of years. We were poor. We had to wait two years for an opening at the school. During those two years I saved every penny we earned except for living expenses.

I was working at a The Collandes Hotel on Singer Island in the Spa giving facials to wealthy people. The Colonnades was owned by Douglas MacArthur the second richest man in America. When I knew him, he was in his late seventies. Bob was working third shift as an electronic technician.

We needed money for the traveling expenses to travel from Jupiter, Florida to California. And to rent an apartment. Brooks Institute required students to own a View Camera, and a tripod as part of his curriculum too. It cost almost $600.00. Which was a fortune to us.

We owned so little in fact, that all of our world belongings fit into Bob’s van and my 1970 yellow VW. We had brought our two dogs Bogie and Ulysses with us. We drove the van and towed my Volkswagen. It took us ten days to travel from Florida to Santa Barbara. It was an amazing trip. In the 1970’s much of our country was still undeveloped and there were hundreds of miles of unspoiled land. I had never fully realized how enormous our country is, until then.

We were unaware that most apartment owners in the Santa Barbara area did not allow pets, especially dogs in their rentals. In addition, we decided that we wouldn’t bring all our savings with us. Since, I was concerned that it would be stolen or lost. And so, when we started looking for apartments. We didn’t have enough cash to pay for first, last months rent and a security deposit. Apartment rents in the Santa Barbara area were much more expensive than Florida.

We began looking outside of the Santa Barbara area. And ended up looking in Lompoc, Ca. Which was about an hour’s drive from Santa Barbara. It’s is located near Vandenburg Air Force Base. The rent was more affordable. Unfortunately, we still didn’t have enough money to put a deposit down.

We approached a local bank in Lompoc. The people at this bank never saw or spoke to us before. They took my husband and I under their wing. We explained that we had more money in our Florida savings account. But it would have to be sent to us in order to rent an apartment.

Temporarily, we had been living with our two dogs Bogie and Ulysses in a run-down hotel room in a somewhat scary neighborhood. The bank manager loaned us the money to rent an apartment. They didn’t charge us any interest, or ask anything in return. We were complete strangers to them. In addition, they put us in touch with people in the area who owned apartments. We were able to rent one of the apartments and move in with our dogs.

I never forgot this experience, or the generosity of the manager of the bank. I promised myself that if I was ever in a position to help someone else out, I would. And I have tried to do just that whenever an opportunity presented itself to me. I consider it a gift to be able help a person in need. This experience really changed my view of the world. I realized that there was kindness and generosity in the world. And that as a fellow human being I had the obligation and the opportunity to make the world a better place. And I was blessed by this opportunity and have grown as a human being because of it.

These Things I Know To Be True

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THESE THINGS I KNOW TO BE TRUE

It is essential to have some space for yourself, even if it is only inside your head and heart.

I was a daughter. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am a sister, aunt, friend and neighbor and citizen.

My parents passed away within eight months of one another when I was thirty-four years old. I took care of my parents through the final moments of their lives. My father died of lung cancer and my mother had dementia. At the time that my father was diagnosed with cancer my older brother came to me and said, “It’s up to you Susan, to take care of them.” My brother was nineteen years older than I was. He was a psychologist whose practice centered on family therapy. He passed away a year ago.

I believe that he felt that as the youngest in my family of origin and a stay at home mom that I was in the best position to care for them. I would have done it without his words. But none the less, there is an expectation in our society that women are and should be the caretakers.

It was a difficult time, stressful, unbearably sad. It was an isolating experience. I learned during that time, that if I was going to take care of my parents, I had to first take care of myself. And so, I tried to get enough rest, eat properly and ask for help from family members when I felt overwhelmed. In fact, I sought counseling because I was suffered from depression.

After my parents passed, I began to think a great deal about life, and how swiftly time passed. My mother had told me before she developed dementia that her regrets in life had to do with all the things she didn’t do. Not any mistakes she may have made. I took my mother’s advice. Not to let fear stand in the way of doing anything I wanted to accomplish.

I considered the regrets of my life up to that point. What I wish that I had done and hadn’t been able to do up that point. My biggest regret was not going to college. When I was senior in high school in 1969, my father, who was an old school kind of guy said,” girls don’t need to go to college they are just going to get married and have children.” I went to work instead as a dental assistant after I graduated.

Consequently, after my parents passed, I kept my mother’s regrets in mind. I decided to go to college.

Two years after I lost my mother and father I applied to and was accepted into Temple University at Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia.  My kids were three and six at the time.

It was very difficult juggling two young children and going to school full-time. But I did it, I graduated with a degree in Graphic Design and Art Education. It was the best experience of my life. I realized I was intelligent, motivated and worth the investment of time and money. I gained confidence in myself. Both of my children grew up being exposed to art and creativity. They went on to Art School and became artists. Creativity is an essential part of my psyche and theirs as well.

In addition to painting, I write. Writing and painting are both forms of storytelling.  Until recently, it was something I did only for myself. Writing is an outlet for expressing my thoughts and feelings when it doesn’t always feel safe to express them to anyone else.

You are more than the roles you play in other people’s lives. You are more than someone’s mother, daughter, sister or wife. Try to remember you are unique, you have value. You have much to contribute to the world. Do not ever let anyone take that away from you. Make it your goal to find that little space inside your heart and your head just for you.