Category Archives: My Memoirs

LIFE’S HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

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

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

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

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

This is me when I was a toddler.

This was me when I was a toddler.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

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

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

Freud

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

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

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

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

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

My father- 1960's

My father, Hugh Carberry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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A MODERN DAY FAIRY TALE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will. She will be safe with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mom. I’ll see you later.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, aren’t you the lucky one?”

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

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

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

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IS GETTING OLD A GIFT OR A CURSE

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

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

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

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

Blue and Gold Macaw

Blue and Gold Macaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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MEMOIRS OF A BABY BOOMER AND CATHOLIC SCHOOL

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Memoirs of a Baby Boomer and Catholic School

Dear Write On Followers,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strawbridge Lake, Moorestown.J

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jalepeno

Jalepeno

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

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

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

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THE BELLS OF ST. VINCENT’S

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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A NEW YEAR, A NEW BEGINNING

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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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The Christmas Spirit

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Christmas time is here again. At my age, it seems difficult to summon up the Christmas spirit.

Maple Shade, NJ Christmas 1960’s

But when I was a child, it was a different story. I remember the days leading up to Christmas seemed to go by at a snail’s pace. I would ask my mother every day, “How many more days until Christmas, Mom?

She answered, “One less than when you asked me yesterday. Now, why don’t you go find something to do and keep yourself busy.”

I know if I kept bugging her, she’s going to find something for me to do. “OK, Mom, I think I’ll take a walk. I’ll be back in a little while.”

I decided to walk downtown and look in the windows of the stores. We live in a little town in Southern New Jersey called Maple Shade. And all the stores are decorated for Christmas. We even have a Christmas parade. And Santa Clause takes a ride all over town in the fire truck. And he throws candy to all the kids that are lined up on the sidewalks. All my friends and I walked down the pike on Main Street to see it yesterday. We had such fun. It was really cold outside, so we all had our winter coats on and hats and gloves and snow boots. Because the day before yesterday, we got over a foot of snow.

As I walked down the street, I noticed that the repair shop had a TV in the window, and it was playing It’s A Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart. I’ve seen this story before, but all the same, I stand there and watch it for quite a while. I can’t hear the sound, of course, but I know most of the dialogue anyway since I’ve seen it so many times. I decided to walk down to the Five & Dime Store to look at all the cool toys in the window. I asked Santa for a Barbie doll. I hope I get one.

The Christmas Lights along Main Street are beautiful. Of course, they look better when it’s dark out. The volunteer firemen drove up and down Main Street in their Fire Trucks and put up the lights and the Christmas Wreaths with big red bows on them the week before Thanksgiving. I watched them. The Rexall Drug Store is next to the Five & Dime Store. They have a display with a train set riding around on the train tracks with little houses and churches and trees and tiny little people walking around. There is even a little dog in the front yard of one of the little houses. At least, I think it’s a dog, but it’s hard to tell because it is so little. Above the houses, Santa is flying through the air with his reindeer, including Rudolph with his red nose. There’s a little stream of smoke coming out of the smokestack of the train engine. I wish we had one of those going around our tree.

I walk down to the bakery and look in their window. There are so many delicious-looking cakes in the window. My stomach starts growling really loud. My mother says I have a sweet tooth. I’m not sure what that means. But I really do love candy and cake. I hope I get some candy canes in my Christmas stocking and some chocolate kisses with red and green foil wrapped around them. Oh, how I would love to have an éclair too. My mother is making a cake for Christmas. She is a really good baker. I hope she makes a vanilla cake with shredded coconut on it. I really do love coconut. Oh, I almost forgot that every Christmas, my mother makes a giant tin of Christmas cookies. She puts the cookie dough in a cookie press, squeezes out these cookies in all kinds of shapes, and puts different colored sprinkles on them. I always find where she hides the cookie tin in the cellar, and I eat a whole bunch of them before Christmas gets here.

As I’m walking down Main Street, I see a police car coming in my direction. The car pulls over, and I hear the policeman calling out my name and saying, “Merry Christmas, Susie.”

I walk over to the curb, and I see it is Mr. Lombardi, our next-door neighbor. He is a policeman in our town. “Merry Christmas, Officer Lombardi,” I scream at the top of my voice. And then he waves again and drives away.

I continue walking down the street, and I see a couple of kids from school. I hear them yelling, “Hey Susie, do you want to go and play behind the church?”

“Sure,” I say. When I caught up with them, I saw it was my friend Helen and Ann Marie.

“What were you up to, Susie?”

“Nothing, just walking downtown and looking in all the store windows. What do you guys want to do?’

“We were just going behind the church and seeing who is playing in the snow out there. Are you getting anything good for Christmas, Susie?”

“I don’t know what I’ll get, but I asked for a Barbie doll and some art supplies. How about you guys? What did you ask for Christmas?”

“I ask for two games, Operation and Twister. I love games, said Ann Marie. “

“I ask for an Easy-Bake oven. said, Helen.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.”

We rounded the corner at Main Street and Fellowship Road, and I said, “Let’s have a race to the pump house behind the church. Ready, set, go.”

And we all ran as fast as we could. And at the last minute, I slipped on an icy spot and fell flat on my back. Ann Marie and Helen ran up to me and said all at once,” Are you alright?”

“Yes.” I manage to say, even though the wind really got knocked out of me.

“Ok, then I bet I can beat you to the pump house Helen yells.” And before I even got up from the icy sidewalk, they were running at top speed to the pump house. I scramble up and start running as fast as I can. I was just about to catch up with them when I heard them yelling, “We beat you; we beat you.”

All the same, I kept running, and before you knew it, I was scrambling up the side of the pump tower to the top along with them. There were a whole lot of kids from Our Lady of Perpetual Help school there and some of the public-school kids too. And they were climbing up hills of snow and sledding across the parking lot. We laughed hard, and the air was so cold I could hardly breathe. I don’t know how long I stayed out there. But I knew by the time I heard my mother yelling, “Susie, it’s time to come home. It was starting to get dark outside. What a day it was, what a day!

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RANCH HOPE SNOWED IN FOR FOUR DAYS

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It was 1994 and II was working at Ranch Hope in Alloway, New Jersey. Ranch Hope was, at that time, a residential, Christian residence for boys ages seven through twenty who were in crisis. Ranch Hope has existed since 1964. I began working there as the first female counselor, and as time went on, I was made the assistant supervisor at Ranch Hope at Turrell Cottage. The boys I was responsible for were between the ages of fourteen to eighteen. These boys had been adjudicated by the court to reside at Ranch Hope because of either family difficulties or breaking the law. And it was either Ranch Hope or jail. Ranch Hope was a last-ditch effort to save these kids who came from rough backgrounds and give them a new chance to start over again. Some of the boys ended up living their entire adolescence at Ranch Hope.

At the time I was working a split shift from seven AM in the morning until ll AM. And then went home until my second shift began from 2:30 until 11:30 PM. That is when the night proctor arrived. And he was often late. Sometimes, I didn’t get home until midnight. And the next day I was tired all day.

On that particular day, it started to snow lightly in the morning at first, and then later, heavy snow began to fall about the time the boys were dismissed from school. All the boys attended Strang School, which was a school that was located on the Ranch Hope Campus within walking distance from the cottages. Most of the teachers were anxious to leave that day since the snow was beginning to accumulate rapidly, and they didn’t want to be stuck there overnight.

I wasn’t too concerned at first. Because I thought the snow would slow down as it had recently, and I would be able to go home as usual. But that isn’t what happened. The snow continued to come down heavier and heavier during the day, and by nightfall, there were several feet of snow. I knew there was no way I was going to get home that night. And that I was going to end up sleeping on the lumpy couch in the living room.
After several hours of heavy snow, I knew for sure that I wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon. And that was exactly what happened. The night proctor was not able to make his way from his residence to Ranch Hope because the roads had become impassable, and almost impossible to see where you were going. Ranch Hope is located out in the middle of nowhere, and the roads were rarely plowed. There weren’t any street lights on the roads leading in and out of Alloway and the nearly forty-minute drive home. And on this particular night, the roads were unpassable altogether.

The boys were all excited because of the snow and the fact that they wouldn’t have to attend school for several days. Of course there was other staff from the rest of the cottages that were not going to be going home anytime soon either. Fortunately, Ranch Hope had its own cafeteria and kitchen staff that prepared food for the boys and the staff, and it was only a short walk from any of the cottages to the cafeteria.

As the day went by, I knew for sure I was not going to go home anytime soon. But, at least I was in a warm and safe place. What I didn’t realize right away was that the snow wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. In fact, I ended up staying at Ranch Hope for several days. One of the main problems for me was that the rest of the staff who worked in the residential cottages were men. And I, well, I was the only female. So, there weren’t any female facilities like bathrooms, showers, etc.

By the end of the third day, I was feeling uncomfortable since I had been wearing the same clothes for several days, my hair felt dirty, and I didn’t have any other clothes to wear. At this point, I decided to call the staff at Camp Edge. Camp Edge was a place for the boys to camp and learn some life skills outside of their own background, which was mostly inner city, Camden, or worse. Most of these boys grew up in poverty; many were from broken families or families with addiction problems, or their parent or parents were incarcerated. And Ranch Hope was their last chance to redeem themselves before they ended up incarcerated themselves.

I was able to get ahold of the married couple that ran Camp Edge and asked if would be possible for me to come there and get a shower and borrow a change of clothes. Since I didn’t know when I would be able to get home. Meanwhile, I had to find someone to come to Turrell Cottage and watch the boys while I was gone. After finding a staff member to fill in for me at Turrel for an hour or so, I headed slowly on the snow-covered back roads to Camp Edge. I have to say, even though I grew up in New Jersey and learned how to drive in all kinds of weather. It was a bit scary to drive on back roads with several feet of snow, even though some had been plowed at some point in the last several days. They still have a couple of feet of snow I would have driven through, and I wasn’t up for that. So, I stayed put at Turrel Cottage until the roads were cleared for the most part.

Some of the roads that were plowed had melted and frozen over again and again, and they were sheets of ice. I won’t lie, it was scary. I knew if I had an accident there were very few people on these back country roads that would find me. And then I thought, oh, the couple at Camp Edge knew I was coming, and if I didn’t show up, they would come looking for me. Or at least they would know and inform Ranch Hope staff that I never arrived.

But my luck held out, and I slowly made my way to Camp Edge and drove down their rough driveway and up to their house, which was really more of a cabin than a house. But, still, it had heat, and I could take a shower and change clothes, which would be a blessing. They were waiting for me on their front porch and welcomed me into their home. It was so warm and inviting I hated the idea of leaving and going back on the snow covered, icy roads back to Ranch Hope. And I didn’t know how long it would be before the roads were clear enough to go home and get a good night’s sleep in my own warm bed.

After I showered and changed clothes I thanked them and said, “hopefully, the next time I see you I won’t smell to high heavens.” And they laughed. And I got into my car and slowly made my way back to Ranch Hope. When I arrived, all the boys were in the cafeteria eating lunch. And I went in and grabbed something to eat, and sat down at the table with my boys at Turrell Cottage’s table. They were still really worked up and excited by the snow and no school. And they were being rather boisterous, but not for long. Because when they saw me come into the cafeteria, they knew better than to be acting out. I was a kind caretaker, but I stuck to the rules. I took a good look at the boys. And they were all there but spread out over two tables. And I saw a couple of the older kids were working in the kitchen.

In fact, all the boys, after they had been there for some time, were given jobs if they were being compliant in the cottage and in the school. They were given the opportunity to work and earn money. And if they earned enough points, they would allowed to go on outings. At some point, when the roads cleared up and it was safe to travel, they would be able to go out to the Malls in the area and speed some of their hard-earned money. I won’t lie. Sometimes, some of the boys would try hard to do the right thing, but other times, they tried to sneak around and do things that they weren’t allowed to do. And they would lose points and privileges. And they wouldn’t be able to go off campus or even out of the cottage if they were out of compliance with the rules.

About a day and a half later, I was able to go home, take a day off, and catch up on my sleep. I decided that from then on out, I would bring a change of clothes with me just in case. I worked several more years at Ranch Hope, and although it could be stressful working there, I loved it. And I came to love all those boys. Even the difficult ones. I think it was one of the most rewarding yet stressful jobs I ever had. I can only hope that I helped those boys through a challenging time in their lives. They learned some self-control and came to understand that they were in charge of making their lives and their futures flourish or fail. It was up to them. Over the course of my working life, which started when I was seventeen and extended into my early sixties, Ranch Hope was the job I loved the most and the one that has held many good and bad memories. But, the job that I will always be proud of was the one in which I hope I guided young boys to turn into men with a conscience that knew right from wrong. And to make it their business to treat all people with care and concern and good will.

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