Tag Archives: friends

SO APPARENTLY, IT’S BACK TO SQUARE ONE

About a month and a half ago, I received a notice “in the mail.” It was from my husband’s lawyer. My husband had filed for divorce. We had recently celebrated our twenty-fifth anniversary. To say it was a shock is the understatement of all times. I had no idea, none, that he was unhappy or discontent. He was away on a business trip, and I had expected him to come home by the end of the week. He hadn’t contacted me since he left four days ago, which wasn’t unusual. He traveled quite often. He didn’t always know exactly when he would be getting home.

I called him on his cell phone. He didn’t pick up. There was a message saying he would be unavailable for the next several weeks. Leave your number, and he will get in touch with you.

I slowly placed the phone back, I had an impulse to slam it down hard, but I didn’t since I could already feel the beginnings of a migraine headache in the top of my head. I felt a tear run down my cheek, followed by an avalanche of tears that followed it.

I sat there frozen in place, unable to think clearly. It felt like the end of the world to me. I could not comprehend that my husband, whom I loved dearly, did not love me anymore and wanted a divorce. This is the man I had intended on spending the rest of my life all the way to our golden years.

I kept going over in my head everything that had happened between us recently. I couldn’t think of a single word or event that would have given me some warning that Howard was discontent or unhappy in our life together. But, obviously, he was, and somehow I had remained blissfully unaware of his feelings and his intentions.

It just blew my mind. And even on the evening of our twenty-fifth-anniversary party, he never let on. It almost feels as if I’m living in some alternate reality. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. Do I get a lawyer, should I ask my husband if he’s willing to see a marriage counselor? I don’t know. I talked to several of my woman friends who have experienced divorce, and they all gave me the name and number of the divorce lawyers they had used. Sally, my best friend, cried along with me. And told me she would be with me every step of the way. And she was. What would we do without our woman friends?

My husband’s lawyer and my lawyer scheduled a meeting for us all to get together and discuss the details of our divorce. Who gets what etc., etc. It was brutal. My husband sat across from me and never looked me in the face. It was like he was negotiating one of his real estate contracts with a total stranger. His face was without expression, and he never made eye contact with me. He looked through me as if I was invisible to him. I was having a difficult time paying attention to what was being said. I hoped my lawyer was doing his job because I felt like I was in some other dimension.

The next thing I knew, my lawyer touched my shoulder and said, “These are the papers you have to sign. You keep the house, and the two of you will evenly divide the investments and any monies that remain in your joint bank accounts.” I stared at him and shook my head up and down a couple of times. And then he shoved the contracts in front of me and held a pen up in front of my face. Since I wasn’t reacting to what he just stated. I took the pen, and my lawyer pointed at the decree and said,” Sign, here, here, and here. It’s final. We can be on our way.”

My husband got up from his seat, shook his lawyer’s right hand, and then turned and left the room without a word said to me at all. It was almost as if I didn’t exist in his reality anymore. And I guess I didn’t. It was surreal. I tried to take it all in. I guess it was going to take a long time for me to accept my new reality, even if that reality was a complete and unbelievable nightmare.

After we had signed all the papers, the lawyers shook each other’s hands. I stood up and immediately felt dizzy. I sat down again, and my lawyer gave me a glass of water to drink. He said, “This is a difficult experience. Many people have a negative reaction to divorce. I promise you that in time you will adapt to this change. You know how to contact me if you need to for any reason.” He shook my hand, and I think I shook his as well, but I couldn’t sware to it. I felt lightheaded. I slowly rose from the table, picked up my purse, and headed out the door and into the foyer. I didn’t even bother to look back at my husband, I mean, my former husband. I didn’t know how I would take my next breath, let alone continue on with my life like nothing happened. When I couldn’t think of a single reason to keep breathing or living. I somehow made it home safely. I don’t know how. I don’t even remember driving home.

But, one good thing did happen I decided that I was going to get a dog as soon as possible. I couldn’t bear the idea of living alone. I wasn’t ready to think about selling my house. But, it was in there at the back of my mind. Selling the house I had lived in for the past twenty years with my “husband.” And starting over, somewhere new. I had always wanted a dog. But, my husband said, “What for?” Unfortunately, we were never able to have children, and doctors were never able to diagnose the fertility problem. It just never happened for us. He didn’t want any part of adopting. And he even rejected getting a dog.

So here I am at the husk of a new life. Where I alone determine what is right for me, it has given me hope that, under my own power will make myself happy and eventually content. I will bring myself to my ultimate goal. And that is happiness and contentment. Is this too much to ask, you may say? “No, no, it is not.”

After weeks of vacillating about what I should do to turn my life around, I finally made the decision to hire a realtor and sell the house. I no longer considered it to be “my” house. It was just “a house.”

At this point, I wanted a complete change of scenery. And the night I woke up from a dream and realized that what I wanted to do was buy a house on the beach and get a dog. And spend the rest of my days in a warm climate walking my dog or perhaps dogs on the beach. At some point, I would have to find a job to help pay the bills. But, not right away, I wanted to have to accustom myself to the new home and perhaps make a friend or two.

As soon as I found “my” house, I would get myself a dog. And then my new life would begin. In the next three weeks, I spent all my time going from one house to another with my realtor, looking for that perfect home. About three weeks in, my realtor took me to a two-story home in Wildwood, NJ. And I immediately fell in love with it. I realized that it was big enough that I could rent part of the house out to make some extra money and still have plenty of room. I would live on the lower floor. Once I went to the settlement, I started hitting the local shops looking for furniture and everything else I would need. And within a month, I thought it was absolutely perfect.

The following week I took a trip to the local pound to get a puppy. There were quite a few dogs to choose from. But once I saw the little ball of fluff, I knew I had found my dog. The woman who worked at the animal shelter told me that he was actually a grown dog and he wouldn’t get any bigger. He was a must, but she wasn’t sure what kind of mix he was. As soon as I met him, I fell in love. And I knew he was the dog for me. I took him home that day. I named him Buddy because he had quickly become my best buddy. It took him a few days to become accustomed to my house. But, soon enough, he felt at home. Oh, and he absolutely loved walking on the beach and letting the waves wash over his feet at the shoreline. We were a match made in heaven.

Every day we started the day with a walk to the beach and back, and then we had a light breakfast. I had fenced in the backyard and put a doggy door in the kitchen door so he could go out back to the yard when he needed to relieve himself. He soon befriended our neighbors, who all turned out to be friendly, but not too friendly, if you know what I mean.

As a matter of fact, I began to make friends with some of my neighbors who had befriended Buddy. I started planting a garden in the front yard. And my neighbors came over to admire my handiwork. Some of them even asked me for gardening advice. I was happy to advise them, although I informed them that I, too, was a novice gardener and just learning myself.

Before I knew it, I had been living there for six months. And I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt more content and relaxed. In my free time, I decided to start writing some short stories about what was going on in my local area. And one of my neighbors suggested I send some of my stories to the local newspaper. Believe it or not, the paper said they would pay me to write stories about what was going on in the local area. And I was a little reluctant at first, but then I thought, “Why not?”

And so, now I am a paid writer for the local newspaper. I’m not making a lot of money, but every bit helps. Who knows what I will do next? The skies are the limit. I am quite content living in my house with my Buddy and so happy to live in a neighborhood where people care about one another. So, I guess my divorce wasn’t all bad. And who knows what good things are coming my way? I look forward to the future and what it will bring.

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LIFE’S HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

I guess you could say I’ve always been somewhat of a loner. Although throughout most of my life, I’ve always maintained a “best friend.” My best friend has not always been a fellow human being. Currently, my best friends are my dogs. And so far, they have proven to be the most loyal and loving, and accepting best friends. I suppose my peculiar ways have a tendency to “put people off.”

Watercolor I painted of my house where I grew up in and the Catholic Church that defined who I became as an adult in many ways.

Oh, you’re wondering what traits I have that put people off. Well, my sense of humor. I have to admit I’m a sarcastic person. Not mean sarcastic, but funny sarcastic. Although not everyone ‘gets” my sense of humor. I have something of a trigger finger when it comes to responding to people’s comments. It’s no sooner out of your mouth than I have a sarcastic remark to counter it. I think I’m a riot, but not everyone would agree.

And then there’s my almost total lack of interest in my outward appearance. Especially if I’m at home and working around the outside or out in the garden, I will definitely be wearing my oldest, most worn-out clothes I own. So, you happen to come over to my house without forwarning me. Well, you can expect me to look pretty much like I haven’t showered or washed my clothes recently. If you let me know you are coming in advance, you can be sure that I will take a quick shower and change my clothes. And I will have something for you to eat when you arrive. Without warning and I most likely will have an empty fridge, and you’ll be lucky to get more than a glass of water or tea. What can I say?

Downtown Maple Shade in the 1950s

Oh, there I go off the track again. I was explaining how I am somewhat of a loner and usually only have one close friend at any given time. And in recent years, most of my closest friends have been dogs, cats, and birds. And they may not even be my dogs, cats, or birds. They could very well be my neighbor’s pets. In fact, my best and closest friend when I was a young child was a stray cat named Strottles. He was an ancient orange cat. He was covered with scars from his many battles with neighbors’ male cats. He came to our side door every day and would meow until I came outside and gave him his share of hugs, scratches, and petting.

And in addition, I befriended all the neighbor’s pets, including cats and dogs. I went out of my way to talk to all the older people in the neighborhood, who often lived alone. And they were more than happy to make my acquaintance and befriend me. I found that they were good listeners and were never in a hurry. And they always seemed entranced by the stories I would tell them about the adventures I experienced in our neighborhood and the rest of the town that I lived in as well. My parents gave me full rein. As long as I was home for lunch or dinner on time, all was copesetic. In fact, they rarely asked where I had been or what I had been up to in fact. Even at the age of six, I was allowed to go out on my own as long as I wasn’t late for meals or bedtime. I kid you not.

I met some interesting people on my excursions. And once I was old enough to ride a bike, there was no stopping me. I traveled to all the surrounding towns on that bike. There was no stopping me. And like I said, my parents never asked where I had been or what I had been up to. Go figure.

My family in the 1950’s

One of my favorite haunts was the local library, which was only two rooms. I used to go there at least once or twice a week, even before I was old enough to get a library book. I would pick out a bunch of books and spend several hours perusing them from the front cover to the last page. Sometimes, the librarians would greet me with ‘Oh boy, do we have a book for you.” And then I would be in book heaven for the next couple of hours. I made friends with all the local merchants. Needless to say, the local bakery and its employees became best friends of mine. I was their official taste tester. I can’t express just how much I loved all things sweet, from cakes to pies, to cookies.

And then there was the shoemaker. His shop was right around the corner from the Ben Franklin 5&10. I’ll tell you about that later. Anyway, Tony the shoemaker was one of my favorite people to visit because he was always happy to see me, and sometimes I brought him a treat from the bakery. He came from Italy, and I loved hearing him talk with his Italian accent. He liked to hear all my stories about the people I talked to around town. He knew most of them as he was the only shoemaker in town.

Then, I would stop at the Rexall Drug Store and then the 5&10 cent store where you could actually purchase things for a nickel or a dime. I liked to collect foreign stamps when I was a kid. And you could buy a whole bunch of used stamps for fifty cents or a dollar if you had that much money. There were so many treasures to be found in that 5&10 store. I could spend hours in there just walking up and down the aisles. Sometimes, I would find some coins on the sidewalk when I was walking around downtown, and then before you could say whoop de doo., I would run down the street to the 5&10 and spend that money like it was burning a hole in my pocket.

Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy, where I attended high school.

Oh, but the best thing of all was the Roxy Theater, where every Saturday, you could watch a movie for twenty-five cents. I used to go with all my friends, sometimes school friends, and sometimes neighborhood kids. I would bring my lunch with me in a brown paper bag. My best neighborhood friend lived three houses away from me. We did everything together. At least everything during the summer, but during the school year, she used to sleep in late on Saturday morning, and then she would have to clean her room. So, I didn’t usually see her until we went to the children’s mass on Sunday. I was always talking and laughing during Mass and causing some kind of ruckus, and getting in trouble with the nuns.

After Mass, I would run home and eat a big Sunday breakfast with my family, and then I would be off on my bike. On Sunday,I spent most of my time alone because my friend’s family spent the day together. I didn’t have to be home except for breakfast and then at dinner time. I spent Sunday riding my bike around or taking long walks. Where I would stop and visit all the neighbor’s dogs and cats. And sometimes, I would go and visit all the older people in my neighborhood who lived alone. They always seemed happy to see me, and sometimes they offered me cake. And you know, I never said no to a piece of cake. And they all loved hearing my stories about the people in town, sometimes, I embellished the stories somewhat, but that just made them more interesting. I guess that’s when I began my journey of being a storyteller.

One time during Summer vacation, all the neighborhood kids were all outside playing Hide and Seek, and I was with my best friend. And I decided to tell her a story. I told her that I was actually an alien from outer space and came from another planet. And I was going to take her back with me to my planet. Apparently, I told the story so well that she believed me. Even though she knew me all her life, anyway, she said she didn’t want to go live on another planet, and she started crying buckets of tears. I couldn’t calm her down enough to tell her I was just telling a story. And it wasn’t true.

So, I had to take her home so her mother could calm her down. I tried to explain to her mother that I was just telling her one of my stories, but she was mad all the same. I have to admit I never told my mother and father about making my best friend cry. Because they had told me many times that one of these days, I was going to get into trouble for telling my tall tales.

I became friends with the old lady that lived across the street from my house. She was a widow and lived all alone. My best friend and I used to go over to Mrs. McFarland’s house and play with our dolls on her big swing. Once, Mrs. McFarland brought her childhood doll outside to show us. It was made of China and had real hair on its head. I loved Mrs. McFarland because whenever I came over to her yard, she would come outside and talk to me and tell me stories about her life. Mrs. McFarland only had one and a half arms. She told me that she was born like that, and her one arm only went down as far as her elbow.

But that didn’t stop Mrs. McFarland. She took care of herself and her house and did all the gardening in her yard. Her favorite flowers were roses and tulips. She used to tell me all the names of the flowers and how to take care of them. She inspired me to become a gardener when I grew up. And here I am, the age she was when I first became friends with her. And now I am a gardener and like nothing better than spending the day outside, tending my flower. Mrs. McFarland had a gigantic Weeping Willow in her yard, and she used to let me climb it. And now I planted a Weeping Willow in my yard here in North Carolina. When I was about sixteen years old, she passed away, and every time I looked across the street at her house, I missed her.

Over the course of my life, I have always found my own company to be satisfying. And I have always had many hobbies and interests. I love to read, draw and paint, and make things. I made all my own clothes for years and my children when they were young. When I was thirty-six, I made the decision to go to college and learn how to draw and paint. I graduated from college when I was forty with a degree in Art Education and a Bachelor of Arts Degree. I taught art for years, and often my students would sit out in my garden and draw or paint pictures of my plants and flowers. Along the way, I started writing short stories, and when I retired here to North Carolina, I decided to start a writer’s blog on the internet that was six years ago. And here I am, still going strong. You never know what life will have in store for you and where it will take you. I have lived in New Jersey, Florida, California, and the past eight years in North Carolina. I met some interesting people when I was working for the Elizabeth Warren Campaign. And at the Animal Sanctuary, I have been volunteering for the last eight years, three mornings a week.

As long as my heart and mind are still working, I will keep active and motivated to learn, meet new people, and grow as a human being. Life is short and goes by quickly, so whatever you do, make the most of it. Be kind to all you meet along life’s highways and byways. You never know what life has planned for you. Keep an open heart and an open mind, and a smile on your face.

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YOU WERE NEVER PROMISED PARADISE

I had moved out of my parent’s house the Summer I turned eighteen and graduated from high school. I had planned my exit for years since I was a Junior in High School. My parents had a volatile relationship. By that, I mean they argued night and day. And often, the verbal arguments turned physical. I can not begin to count the number of times that I came downstairs to our kitchen and found my mother sitting at the kitchen table with an icepack on her face.

My mother would look at me with a weird grin on her face. I never understood what she was smiling about. When I was younger, I would run over to her and say,” Mommy, are you alright? What happened? Did you fall down again?” She always told me she tripped and fell and hit her head. I couldn’t understand why she fell down so often. Then I would hug her and say, “Mommy, please be careful and try not to fall down.”

Of course, as I grew older, I realized that all the yelling and screaming every night was followed by my father hitting or punching my mother. And in the morning, the trashcan in the kitchen would be filled to the brim with empty beer bottles. At first, I thought it was just my dad drinking a lot of beer. But at some point, I think about the time I was going to Middle School, I realized that they were both drinking beer or wine every night. And that is when they would start arguing. And the arguing evolved into knock-down, drag-down brawls in the kitchen or sometimes in their bedroom. I didn’t know anything else. I thought everyone’s parents had verbal and physical fights every night.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I was invited to a birthday party that was also a sleepover at my best friend Kathleen’s house. Six other girls from our class were invited. We had so much fun playing games. And watching a scary movie and eating junk food until we felt sick, screaming and hitting each other. But they never did. In fact, Kathleen’s mother brought tray after tray of food and sodas and, finally, the birthday cake for all of us to eat. And she smiled and hugged us and said, “Thank you, girls, for coming to Kathleen’s birthday party, and thank you for all the wonderful presents.

I didn’t have any money to buy Kathleen a present, so I made her a present. It was a drawing of her and me playing at the park, swinging on the swings, and going down the slide. When we were little. Kathleen gave me a big smile when she opened it. And said, I love it, Coleen. I will treasure it always.”

All the other kids had brought games and toys for her. But my father yelled at me when I asked him for a couple of dollars to buy my best friend a birthday present. He said,” What do you think that we are made of money?”

Around ten o’clock, Kathleen’s mom said, “ok, girls, it’s time for everyone to go to sleep. If anyone has to go to the bathroom, now is the time to do it. We were all sleeping on the living room floor in sleeping bags that Kathleen’s mother had laid out. We didn’t go to sleep right away. We whispered to each other and laughed. I kept waiting for Kathleen’s mother or father to come into the living room, yell at us, and tell us to shut up, but she never did. After a while, we all quieted down and stopped talking. But I laid awake for a long- long time waiting for the yelling and screaming and fighting to begin, but it never did. It was so quiet I had a hard time falling asleep since I was used to yelling, screaming all night long. Finally, I fell asleep, and for the first time in my life, I slept all through the night without being afraid or crying.

In the morning, Kathleen’s mother crept into the living room and said, “OK, sleepyheads, time to come into the kitchen for a special breakfast. We all slowly woke up and stumbled into the kitchen. Kathleen’s mother had made special pancakes with smiling faces on them and magic candles in the middle that looked like they were burning, but no matter how many times we tried to blow the candles out, they wouldn’t blow out. The pancakes had blueberries in them, which were my favorite fruit, and I gulped them down. And Kathleen’s mother said, Coleen, there’s more where that came from, so take your time. And she smiled at me and patted me on the head. I ducked because I thought she was going to hit me. But she didn’t. She just gave me another blueberry pancake.

After breakfast, Kathleen’s mother said, “ I have a surprise for you. We will all go to the roller rink and roller skating. Don’t worry about having skates because. We will rent them when we arrive. We’re going to leave in about a half hour, so everyone go and brush your teeth and comb your hair, wash your faces and get dressed. And then we’ll be on our way.”

Everyone started yelling and saying, “Hurrah.” I had never been skating and didn’t know how to skate. I went over to Kathleen’s mom and said, “I don’t know how to skate.” She said, “Well, don’t you worry about that. I’ll show you how and we’ll start out slow until you get the hang of it. And I’ll hold your hand until you feel like you can do it on your own, OK.” I nodded my head, and she said now go get dressed so we can all be on our way and have a lot of fun. And you know what else? I’m going to tell you a secret. I was afraid of what she was going to say. But, she said, “We are going to skate until lunchtime, and then we are going to have a pizza party at the roller rink and have an ice cream cake after. How do you like that?”

“I like that, and I love pizza. My father doesn’t like it, and he never lets my mother buy it. I can’t wait. Kathleen’s mother gave me a hug and said, Coleen, you are welcome to come to our house every time we have pizza. I know that Kathleen would love to have you come over since you are her best friend.”

“I’m her best friend, really?”

“Of course, Coleen. You’re her best friend. Now, let’s get ready to go. Shall we?”

And then I ran into the bathroom, washed my face and hands, and brushed my teeth extra long. Then I looked into their bathroom mirror and saw a smiling face looking back at me. And I was surprised when I realized it was my own face smiling at me. And then I ran into the living room and said, “Well, I’m ready.” And everybody laughed because I hadn’t changed out of my pajamas yet. So, I ran back into the bathroom and put my clothes on, and the next thing I knew, we were all pilling into the van and on our way to the roller rink.

It was the best day of my life. I know it was Kathleen’s birthday, but it felt like a gift to me. Roller skate with my friends, eat pizza, and drink sodas and then ice cream. I ate so much that I almost threw up after lunch when I started roller skating. Kathleen’s mom said, “Maybe we should wait a little while before we roller skate. So, our food will get digested. So, we all sang Happy Birthday to Kathleen and gave her a pinch to grow an inch.

At the end of the day, we were full of food, and our legs were tired from roller skating, but it was the best day of my life. And I knew I would never forget it. After we left the roller rink, Kathleen’s mother said she had to call my mother to make sure she was home. So, after a few moments, she came back to the van and said, “Coleen, your Mom had a little accident, but she is going to be OK in a few days, but until then, you will be staying at my house.”

“Is my mother going to be alright?” Yes, she will be fine in a few days, but your dad is not going to be home for a while. So, that’s why you are staying with us until your Mom is all better. Later today, I will go over to your house and get some of your clothes, school stuff, and anything else you need, you can tell me, and I’ll get that too.”

I knew my father had probably hit my mom, and I wished he would never come back. I loved my dad, but he was always mean to my mother and hurt her. Kathleen’s mom said, “After I see your mom, I’ll tell her you will be safe and sound at our house until she feels all better. And that she doesn’t have to worry about you.”

“Can I go see my mom at the hospital?”

“Of course, you can, but maybe tomorrow would be a better day after she rests for a while. But, if she is up to it, I’ll ask her to give you a call from the hospital. “

“Really, OK. Please tell my mom that I love her.”

“Oh, I know your mother loves you right back with all her heart. Everything is going to be alright.”

And everything was OK. I stayed at Kathleen’s house for two weeks until my mother left the hospital. I never saw my dad again because after he got out of jail, my parents got a divorce. I still missed my dad; even after all he did, I still loved him. But, after a while, my mom and I were alright. I don’t know if my father ever talked to my mother. If he did, she never told me.

Kathleen and I stayed friends all the way through high school. And we both applied to the same college and were accepted. We were roommates for four years. And when we graduated at the top of our class. Kathleen’s mother and my mom came together to watch us. They had become friends over the years. Sometimes, I think about my dad and miss him. But, I had to accept that everything in life doesn’t always have a happy ending for everyone.

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YOU GOT IT MADE IN THE SHADE

Maple Shade, New Jersey, is the name of the small town where I was lucky enough to spend my childhood until I moved to my own apartment in Haddonfield, New Jersey when I turned twenty-one.

Maple Shade has a long history dating back to 1672. It was originally an agricultural community. And was called Chester Township. It wasn’t until 1947 that the Carberry family moved there in what was still primarily a rural township but one that was growing and becoming more modern.

By the time I arrived, it was a thriving small town with its own downtown where there were several banks, a post office, a police station, and its own fire company. The downtown consisted of a bakery, Ben Frankling 5&10, a Rexall Drug Store, and an A & P Grocery store, and we had our own Doctor’s office consisting of Dr. Hartman and Dr. Bukley. And my favorite haunt, The Ice Cream Stand.

As I look back over my life, I realize that I was lucky to grow up in Maple Shade in the early 1950s. I doubt I could have had a more idyllic childhood anywhere else. The fact that I was a part of the baby boomer generation played a great part in it. My generation was given a tremendous amount of freedom by our parents. When we weren’t in school, we were allowed to go and come as we pleased. As long as we came home in time for lunch and dinner. My parents never asked me where I was going before I went out for the day. And when I returned, they didn’t really inquire what I had gotten up to or whose house I went to.

In addition to the downtown section of Maple Shade, there were Tar Pits. Where my friends and I would spend hours exploring and digging and looking for treasures, of course, my friends nor I would tell our parents what we were up to, which made it all the more fun for us.

And then there was the Roxy Theater on Main Street, where we kids could go to see the latest movies for twenty-five cents on Saturday morning. I can remember so clearly the Saturday that my friends and I attended a movie at the Roxy Theater called the Village of the Dammed. About these eerie blond-headed and blue-eyed children with extraordinary intelligence that were targeted by the government because they feared they were aliens who might take over the planet. It was a scary movie for that time period. And then, when my friends and I left the theater after the movie, all the kids started pointing at me and saying I was one of these creepy children, as it just so happened that I had blond hair and blue eyes.

In addition to the theater, Maple Shade provided a bus ride back and forth to a roller rink in Riverside. A town about a twenty-minute bus ride away. Where we could use roller skate all day for fifty cents, and that included the skate rental. I spent a great deal of my time falling down and getting up. And saving myself by slamming into the wall. I wasn’t a very good skater, but I loved it all the same.

The Forth of July was the best day of the year for kids. First, there was a parade that went down Main Street all the way up to the border of Lenola. We would all decorate our bikes with red, white, and blue streamers. And then, after dark, the kids in Maple Shade would go outside their houses with sparklers and run up and down their streets.

But my favorite, by far, was Halloween. As soon as it got dark out, all the kids in town would go out in their homemade costumes with empty pillowcases and go to every house in town to collect candy. And when that pillow case was full, we would stop at our homes and empty them and go out for more, and that included stopping at all the stores downtown and the police station. When we got home with all our goodies, we would go through the candy and separate the good stuff, chocolate, from the not-so-popular treats like candied apples. There was nothing that I loved more in life when I was a kid than candy. It’s hard to believe that I still have most of my teeth in my mouth.

But the absolute best holiday was Christmas, which also had its own parade in which Santa Claus was the main event. He would ride in the biggest, gaudiest float and throw candy at all the kids in town. The Main Street in Maple Shade was decorated from top to bottom with Christmas decorations and lights. Santa Claus would make an appearance at the Roxy Theater on stage and give out gifts to the kids at the Saturday Matinee, and then we would sit and watch a Christmas movie, and we would get a box of candy to take home with us.

Overall the memories that stand out the most to me of my childhood were the absolute freedom that we had as children when we were not in school on holidays, but most of all, during the long, hot summer, we could come and go wherever we wanted to. Our parents would say, be careful and make sure you get home in time for dinner. In the summer, we were allowed to go out after dinner until it was quite dark, and then we would hear our parents calling us at the top of their lungs that it was time to come in. And when we finally did arrive home, we were told not to let any mosquitoes come into the house. But, if some mosquitoes did manage to come in, we would spend the next hour trying to annihilate them. Because if one got in your room, one would get little sleep because of the constant buzzing in your ears. Not to mention all the mosquito bits that itched like crazy.

And this is hard to believe, but in the summer, there would be mosquito trucks that would travel up and down the streets, and we kids would follow behind them on our bikes, never realizing that the spray was DDT and toxic. Apparently, our parents had no clue either.

But that is one of the things about childhood. There are many bumps and bruises along the way, but if you survive them all, you grow stronger and fearless. So, when you finally outgrow your childhood, you are ready to face the bigger challenges of becoming an adult with all its slings and arrows.

So, yes, Maple Shade and all the similar little towns in America during the 1950s and ’60s were a great time to grow up and discover just what you were made of, and prepare you for a life that would be both challenging and full of both joy and sorrows. And frankly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

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HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

It was the Fall of 1991 and we had just sold our home of fourteen years in Pennsauken, NJ, and moved to Pitman a small town in Gloucester County New Jersey. We were a family of four, husband, wife, and two children. The house we purchased was a Victorian house that was built in 1910.

It had originally been owned by a family called Sooy. One of the owners was a neuropsychologist and one wing of the house was used for his offices. We heard from our new next-door neighbors that Dr. Sooy only saw patients at night. The house was empty for eight years since its original owners had passed away. It had been neglected for many years long before the former owners passed away. It needed a great deal of work inside and out, starting with a new roof. The old roof had leaked for years and inclement weather over the years had caused damage to the interior of the house. We felt that we were up to the challenge.

My plan was to utilize part of the house which was formerly used as a doctor’s office and exam room as an art studio to teach children and adults the basics of drawing and painting. I had recently graduated from Temple Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. And I had earned a BFA in Fine Arts and a degree in Art Education. I was the only adult student to graduate that year and while my fellow students had attained the grand old age of twenty-one I turned forty. Going to college turned out to be one of the most valuable experiences of my life. It was hard work, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

And so our journey began. We began to do some repairs on the house before we even moved into it. The realtor who had been trying to sell the house for years helped us do some of the minor repairs that had to be completed before we went to closing. So that we could get a certificate of occupancy. We moved in the February of 1994 on my oldest daughter’s thirteenth birthday. But we had to wait until Spring to put a new roof on the house.

One of the first neighbors we met were Bob and Marie Batten who owned the house across the street from us. Bob Batten had recently retired from his dental practice and his dental offices were in his home. His wife had assisted him for many years. He was in his early seventies when we first met and we built a friendship that lasted for many, many years until his death. In fact, Dr. Batten became one of my first adult students. Marie was a dear friend as well despite the thirty-year age gap. I spent many happy hours with her learning about her life in Pitman and hearing all the township gossip from years gone by.

In fact, I made many friends in Pitman through The Art Room. Which was what I named my business. Many children who had an interest in learning how to draw and paint attended my classes for years until they graduated from high school. And many adults who lived in town did as well, even one of the town’s administrators.

The neighborhood we lived in was a mixture of all kinds of people. Many of the people who lived on our street had lived there for decades. And they became some of my closest friends. Lois Fegundus who lived three houses away from me was an avid gardener. She was a retired school teacher, who talk Home Economics and had retired years before. Her favorite hobby was gardening and she taught me everything she knew. She shared her knowledge and her plants. Most of the flowers in the garden I created in my Pitman garden came from Lois’s garden. She had a great love of antique furniture and share her love of everything antique with me. I look back at all the hours I spent with her working in her garden as well as my own garden as the best hours and days of my life. And here I am in my own later years still happily gardening having benefited from her knowledge and generous heart. She passed away shortly before we retired and moved to North Carolina.

Of course, not everything in life smells of roses and daffodils. We had some downright awful neighbors. The Victorian house next door was owned by a man, Jack Fleming whose family lived downstairs and he rented the second floor of his house out.

His wife, Nina was friendly enough. I could never understand what she saw in him since he was eternally in a bad mood. She worked in a library and he sold real estate.

Jack’s tenants came and went fairly quickly because he refused to even consider putting a small window air conditioner in their apartment. And believe me, it is humid and hot, hot, hot in New Jersey in the summertime. So, his tenants would often stay a year and then move out. So, there was a steady stream of people moving in and out. Jack didn’t have any parking available on his property for the tenants. As a result, they always parked on our side street next to our house. One of the first tenants had an unusual hobby. He sang opera late into the night after he got home from work.

The other tenant that sticks out in my memory is a family that lived on the second floor for several years. They used to eat outside on a picnic table and when they were done eating they would throw their trash over our back fence and into our yard. No matter how many times I told them to throw their trash in the trash can they threw it over into our yard.

After several years Jack and Nina sold their house to an investor. And he rented the whole house out top and bottom. I do not have the strength to think about all the people who came and went after that. As an example, one of the tenants who was living in the downstairs apartment decided to move out. They had a pet rabbit and they left it in the shed in the backyard, never to return. The new tenants saw me in my backyard and ask me what they should do about the rabbit. Their landlord said it wasn’t his problem. So, I suggested that they take it to the local animal shelter. It was late August and the shed was hot as hell, can you imagine?

The tenants in the house didn’t have enough parking space in the driveway and they would all park on the side of my house and come and go at all hours of the day and night often throwing their trash from their cars on my sidewalk. No matter how many times I ask them to take their trash with them and keep the noise down to a low roar when they came home in the middle of the night they just didn’t care. At one point one of the tenants invited a whole crowd of people to have a bar-b-Que in the backyard. I happened to be coming out my back door and saw them. I notified their landlord that he better keep his tenants in line or I was going to start calling the police and complain.

Soon after that these particular tenants moved away. Which honestly was a blessing. But, then I started worrying if even worse people could move in next door.

What happened next was the elderly neighbor, Mrs. Foot who lived behind us passed away and her house, a duplex was sold to a middle-aged couple. I went over to their house the following week and introduced myself to her and welcome her and her husband to the neighborhood. She had moved from New York City to our little town of Pitman. The first time I met her I introduced myself to her and welcomed her to the neighborhood she was originally from Brazil.

Over time we became friends and she told me she never learned to drive. I offered to teach her. I have to admit it was a scary experience since she seemed as if she didn’t know her left hand from her right hand. But eventually, she improved and got her driver’s license and her husband bought her a car so she was able to go places while he was at work. We were friends for a long time until my husband and I retired and moved to North Carolina. They came to visit us the first year that we lived there.

But the neighbor who will live forever as a bad memory lived across the street from our driveway. She was the neighbor from hell. Her elderly aunt formerly lived in the house and became ill and passed away. She inherited the house from her aunt. The house was in poor repair but it progressively went downhill after Susan Mullen and her family moved in. She had two teenagers when she moved in but within two years she had two more children a boy and a baby girl. They had different fathers. Susan Mullen was truly one of the worse mothers I ever had the misfortune to know and unfortunately live across the street from them.

Susan Mullen and her string of boyfriends had loud arguments late at night. She apparently had acquired a drug addiction and she had all kinds of scary people visiting her night and day. She left the child care of her two young children to her teenagers. Eventually, I had to report to DYFS that Susan was not only verbally abusing her children but physically. One day her son who was about five or six at the time was out in front of their house he had a child’s golf club and he was swinging it back and forth across the grass. I happened to be gardening in my backyard. She yelled at him to stop. But he didn’t right away. And she ran towards him and kicked him in the rear end with tremendous force and he flew about two feet in the air. I called the town police and reported the incident to DYFS.

I can’t say that thing ever got any better at Susan Mullen’s home. Unfortunately, I have to admit we developed a hate/ hate relationship. That only got worse over time.

The time came when my husband and myself retired and my younger daughter decided to move to North Carolina. By then our older daughter had moved to Philadelphia and married.

We lived in Pitman for twenty-two years. We met and became friends with a great many people. Overall, it was a wonderful experience with a few bumps along the road. And I will miss our house in Pitman for the remainder of my days. It was a difficult decision to sell our house we had put our hearts and years of hard work into restoring it to its former condition. The day we moved away and pulled out of our driveway was one of the hardest days of my life. I only hoped the new family who lives there now love and care for that house as much as we did. And now they are forever a part of its history as we are.

And here I sit in my home in NC in a small development of twenty families. It is a quiet place to live out our retirement and I have come to love this house as well. But, it will never be able to take the place of our Pitman, NJ home in my heart. But, life goes on.

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A COLD WINTER’S DAY

Christine stood next to her car her feet literally frozen to the ground. She had pushed unlock several times on her key fob but nothing happened. She tried inserting her key into the locks and the key turned but the doors refused to open. Her entire car was covered in ice. The doors were covered in ice as were the windows and the mirrors. She tried each door and the same result. Her mind refused to accept what was obvious. She was locked out of her beloved car in the middle of nowhere with no help in sight.

Her hands, feet, and face are burning from the cold. The wind is relentless and so cold that she‘s having trouble breathing. She feels a tear run down her cheek and it freezes there.

She considers her options. Wait and see if her car’s locks eventually thaw out. Wait for someone to drive by and stop and help her. Or continue banging on the doors and pulling on them with all her might until she couldn’t do it anymore.

Or she could start walking to the nearest house. And beg to come in and use their phone. Her cell phone is locked in her trunk and besides her cell phone didn’t work this far out in the boonies.

And then there was the issue of her car’s engine that just slowly stopped and then wouldn’t start up again. Dead battery perhaps. Who knew? She sure didn’t. By no stretch of the imagination was Christine an auto mechanic. Her expertise began and ended at pulling up to a self-serve gas station and putting gas in the car and inserting her credit card into the right slot to pay for the gas.

Usually, Christine was able to remain calm no matter what problem she faced. But recently there have been so many problems, so many unexpected catastrophes that she feels overwhelmed by even the smallest inconvenience. She decides to try the locks one more time and if they didn’t work, she will start walking.

Now the key wouldn’t even turn. She pounds on the door until her hands are numb from the cold and bleeding. She sees no other choice but to start walking until she finds a house or a trailer. She would settle for a semi-dilapidated barn.

She pulls her knitted hat down over her ears and takes her leather gloves out of her pockets and puts them on. She had them for many years. They were a Christmas gift from her husband years ago. Or should she say, ex-husband? Well, they were still married back then but not now. That was one of the catastrophes in recent months. Apparently, he wanted an upgrade in wives, a newer model without the wrinkles and sagging muscles. Someone who might be able to make him a father. Because she wasn’t able to do that.

He was supposed to get married in June. And just last week she received an invitation to their wedding. When she opened the envelope she couldn’t believe her eyes. He had the unmitigated gall to invite her to his wedding with his child bride. Well, she wasn’t exactly a child but almost. She had just turned twenty- two.

Her first impulse was to call him up on his cell and tell him to go straight to hell. Then she thought that she would turn up at his wedding and make a horrible scene. But she knew that would probably backfire on her. So reluctantly she decided to respond that she could not attend as she would be out of town and leave it at that. And maybe she would plan a getaway to some tropical island somewhere or take a cruise or go mountain climbing and jump off the top of a mountain. She just couldn’t decide. She was having trouble making decisions altogether.

In fact, that is why she found herself in her present predicament. Last week she notice her car was making weird noises, and it wouldn’t always start right away in the morning. And she kept telling herself to call and make an appointment at her mechanics to have it checked out and tuned up. But she kept putting it off. Her husband always took care of the cars.

As a result, she found herself walking down a lonely, deserted country road with no houses in sight. She had been on her way to a town about fifteen miles from here to visit an old friend of hers, Mallory. She had purchased a farm and was trying to make a go of it. Christine was having difficulty picturing her friend running a farm since she had been working in tech for the last ten years. But she knew better than anyone how life can change in the blink of an eye.

As she walks down the road she contemplates all the changes that took place in her own life in recent years. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she couldn’t blame her husband for everything. Yes, he wanted children. And when they realize she couldn’t get pregnant. He started talking about adopting. But she was actually relieved that she couldn’t get pregnant. Because she didn’t really want to be a parent.

She loved her job and couldn’t imagine staying home, changing diapers and doing wash, and cleaning the house. It was the last draw for him and he felt she should have told him before they got married that she didn’t want children. She didn’t realize she didn’t want kids until he started pushing her in that direction. She should have told him right away, but she didn’t. And that was on her.

In the distance, Christine could see what looks like a farmer in a field. She started double-timing it in that direction. It was the first good thing that had happened to her in months. By the time she arrived on the road next to the farm, her hands and face and feet were completely numb. She could hardly breathe and she was afraid she would die before she got to him. She started waving her hands frantically in his direction. He waved back.

She realized she would have to go to the farmer. She started walking in that direction. Finally, she was within feet of him. “Hello, oh I’m so happy to finally find someone. My car broke down about three miles back. I’m absolutely frozen could you please, please help me?“

“Oh of course, but we will have to walk up to my house, come on it’s not that far. You poor thing you must be frozen with just that thin jacket on.?”

After about two minutes Christine saw a farmhouse. “Oh thank god, I thought I would die if I had to walk any further in this cold.”

“Here we are. Now let’s get you in the house and get something warm in your stomach and a couple of blankets around you in front of the fire. Shall we?”

“Yes, please. It sounds like heaven.”

“Here we are. Let’s go in. I’ll call my wife. She’ll be happy to have another woman to talk to for once. She usually only sees other people on Sunday when we go to church. A farm keeps you really busy, sunup to sundown.”

“Martha, we have company. A young lady’s car broke down and she had to walk a couple of miles out in the cold. Could you come in and give her something warm to eat. I’ll stoke the fire and get her a blanket.”

“Oh dear, you must be frozen. I just made some fresh vegetable soup and homemade bread. How’s that? What’s your name dear?”

“My name is Christine, I was going to visit a friend of mine and my car broke down. Your farm was the closest place I found since my car stopped working altogether. I‘ve been walking for a good while when I finally saw your husband. Really, he saved my life. Thank you.

“Oh, I don’t know about saving your life, but at least you‘re safe and soon you’ll have something warm in your stomach. Do you feel better yet?”

“Oh yes, I can finally feel my hands and feet. Oh, this soup is so delicious. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. When I’m done could I call my friend to come and get me? My purse and cell phone are locked in the trunk of my car.”

“Of course, dear go right ahead. And please feel free to use the bathroom it’s to your right.”

“That’s a good idea. I guess I really do have to go, but I was so cold I didn’t even think about it.”

“Oh I feel so much better, my friend said that she only lives a few miles from here and she’ll get here as soon as possible. She’s on her way.”

Christine comes out of the bathroom and smiles at the farmer and his wife.”Really I can’t thank you enough. You have renewed my faith in humanity. I live in the city and sometimes I feel so alone even though there are people everywhere. No one even makes eye contact. It makes me feel invisible sometimes. I grew up in a small town in the North East in New Jersey called Maple Shade. We all knew our neighbors and had tons of friends. Everyone waved at people they saw walking around town even if they didn’t know you. It’s a different world now.”

“Yes, the world has changed so much it’s true. People think they are connected to everyone what with the internet and social media. But really they’re not. They don’t really know one another. They don’t interact directly with people they just make comments on social media websites. Out here in the country even though we don’t all live right next to each other we have to make an effort to know our neighbors. Because you never know what kind of emergency might happen. And you have to have people who care enough about you who you can call for help.”

“Really, that must make you feel safe knowing there are people you can call at any given time. You are lucky.”

“Well, I don’t know if I would call it luck. We all have to make an effort to create a community of people that care for one another. People that we can rely on in the good times and the bad. It’s not luck, it is hard work to maintain friendships and community support. Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a lecture or advice. You don’t even know us. I guess that’s the mother in me talking to you like you are one of my daughters.”

“Oh, do you have a large family? I was an only child. I was spoiled but on the other hand, I always wished I had sisters and brothers who cared about me. My parents died in a car accident when I was in college. And now I don’t have anyone. “

“Well, we have five grown children two sons and three daughters. They are all married and have children of their own now. But they visit whenever they can and we love spending time with our grandchildren. They come and spend the summer with us here on the farm. They love all our animals and they are a great help taking care of them. We hope one of them will want to take over the farm after we’re gone.”

“Really that sounds wonderful. I’m so glad my car broke down and I met you. Can I use your phone to call my friend to come to pick me up and could you tell me someone in the area that could come out and look at my car and see if they can fix it or tow it to get it fixed?”

“Of course dear, let me get you those numbers. And by the way, we are the Rafferty. My name is Martha and my husband here’s name is Johnathan. I’m sorry your car broke down but I”m so happy you found us. I want you to know that you are welcome here anytime you come out this way to visit your friend.“

Then Christina called her friend Mallory and told her about her car breaking down, Mallory said she had a friend who was a mechanic and she would ask him to go out and tow Christine’s car. And she would come to pick her up and Christine could stay with her at her farm until it was repaired. She was sorry for her trouble but so happy she would have an excuse to visit with her for at least a couple of days.

About forty minutes later Mallory was knocking at the kitchen door at Martha’s and Johnathan’s house. “Come in, come in get out of the cold. Please have a cup of tea before you and Christina leave. Oh, where’re my manners. I’m Martha and that is my husband, Johnathan. It’s always wonderful to meet someone new. And today we met two new friends. Would you like a piece of apple pie to go with that tea?”

“I would, that sounds wonderful.”

“Here’s your friend Christina. I think she finally thawed out.”

“Oh, Mallory I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here. But thanks so much and I so look forward to spending a couple of days with you. And now I’ve made two new friends and have double the reason to come visit you.”

As Mallory and Christina finished off their pie and tea the Rafferty’s hugged them both and said, “all in all, this has been a wonderful day. Here’s our phone number please, please give us a call the next time you come for a visit to Mallory we would just love that so much.”

Christina and Mallory hugged the Rafferty’s and Christina said, “this really has turned out to be a great experience. You never know what life will bring to you each day. Thank you so much, and I definitely will call you next time I visit Mallory. “Shall we be on our way Mallory?”

“Yes, and thank you for taking care of my dear friend.”

Christina looks at the Rafferty’s and say’s, “you know my mother used to say when you look back at all the experiences in your life both good and bad, you realize that life is beautiful. I never knew what she meant until now. And she hugged Martha and Johnathan and waved as she and Mallory were on their way to her farm.

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THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE

FIRST APARTMENT

I quietly rolled the car down the driveway and into the street before pausing for one last look at my old bedroom window. It was a difficult decision to make. I lived here my entire life. But it’s time. Time for me to finally become independent. But still, it was hard. I love my parents. And I know they love me, but they are so overprotective. They make me feel like I’m incapable of making the smallest of decisions on my own.

They don’t feel like I’m ready to live in the big, bad city. They’re afraid I might get raped, robbed, or murdered. They kept reading me articles from the newspaper reporting the high incidents of drug addicts waiting on every corner of downtown Philadelphia who will rob you.

I assured them that I had been going to Tyler School of Art every day for the past two years and somehow survived without a bodyguard. I’ll be fine. My apartment is only a block away from school, and I can take the bus or the subway all around the city. And all my friends live a bus stop away.

I remind them that I will see them when they come by my apartment in a couple of days because they are coming to Philly to pick up my car and take it back home since it is too expensive to keep a car in the city.

As I pull out into the street, I see my parent’s faces pressed up against the kitchen window and waving frantically at me. I wave back with a big smile on my face. I see my mother wipe a tear from her cheek. That tearing rolling down her face almost makes me change my mind. I’ve never been able to bear seeing my mother cry. But this time, this time is different. I grit my teeth and wave again. And I don’t look back. I head towards the Ben Franklin Bridge and my future as a newly semi-independent adult.

After being stuck in the morning traffic jam for a good half hour, I cross the bridge and head towards my apartment, which is within walking distance of Tyler. It’s an old building, everything around it looks old. There are beautiful sections of Philadelphia, but this isn’t one of them. I manage to get a parking spot across the street from my new apartment, which is a miracle. Apparently, one of the overnight parkers just left as I drove into the lot. I see this as a good sign. Owning a car in the city is expensive. It makes more sense to take public transportation than pay through the nose to park your vehicle overnight. That’s why my car is going to be living at my parent’s house.

I will have to make several trips from my car to my apartment. I have all my clothes, and books, and art materials to bring inside. My parents helped furnish the place with stuff that they bought at yard sales and estate sales. They are good at finding bargains. They even got me dishes and silverware and kitchen stuff. When I arrive at the steps to my apartment, I see what appears to be a homeless guy sitting on the stoop. He moves to one side when he realizes I am going up the steps. I say,” hello. He asks do you have any spare money?” And I say, “Sorry, I’m a student and don’t have any extra money.” I unlock the door and head up the steps. I see a discarded needle on the top step. I’m so glad my parents didn’t come with me today, or they would have dragged me home.

By the time I arrive on the third floor, I’m out of breath. I promise to start exercising as soon as I get settled. I know at twenty years old, I shouldn’t be getting out of breath after only going up two flights of steps.

I have a little trouble unlocking the door as it’s an old building. And probably built at the turn of the century, and the door looks it. I finally jam the key in and manage to turn it. I have to pull the door closed with both hands. I shove all my stuff in with my foot since I had to put it down to unlock the door. The guy in the apartment next to me sticks his head out. His hair hangs down to his waist, and he has a beard almost as long. Oh, my mother is just going to go nuts when she sees him. The whites of his eyes are blood red. He looks like he hasn’t slept in ten years.

“Hey, welcome. My name’s Steven Corson. I work at night and sleep during the day, so I would appreciate it if you kept the noise down.

“Well, I’ll be at school during the day, but I can’t promise there won’t be any noise since my friends from Tyler School of Art will be visiting me because Tyler is right around the corner.”

He nods at me and says, “good luck. I hope you’ll like it here.” And he pulls his head back into his apartment and closes the door, and I hear him slide the deadlock in place. That reminds me that I need to do the same once I get all my stuff up here this morning. I think I’ll get an extra key made so one of my friends can hold it just in case I lock myself out or lose my key. I would get one made for my parents, but I don’t want to come home to find them sitting in my living room.

I made several trips from my car to the apartment, and when I made the final trip, I sat down on my new, old couch and took a deep breath. I say out loud, “this is the first day of the rest of my life.” And I smile. I look around my apartment. My parents came over one day and cleaned it from top to bottom. It will probably be a good month or two before I clean it again. And that’s me being optimistic.

I walk over to the kitchen if you can call it a kitchen. It has one counter with a refrigerator on one side, a hot plate and a toaster oven and a sink, no dishwasher. Oh, and a small cabinet under the counter for cleaning stuff. I look in the cupboards, and I see I have an old set of dishes, six glasses, and five used coffee cups. In the overhead, there’s cereal, dry potatoes, and some canned food. The fridge has milk, juice, butter, bread, cheese, and lunch meat, hot dogs and frozen hamburgers, and fudge bars in the freezer, which is my favorite dessert. I will have to thank my mom. As much as she gets on my nerves, she does more for me than anyone ever has.

I head toward the bathroom. It’s tiny, a standing shower, towel rack, sink, toilet, and a small cabinet under the sink with some cleaning products and paper towels. My mom left two sets of towels and washcloths. I go into the bedroom, and it looks even smaller than when I checked it out the first time because my parents brought my bedroom furniture over. Which include my single bed, dresser and side table, and a lamp. The living room has an old couch and my beanbag from my bedroom and my tv and computer. The closet is the biggest thing in the apartment, and hopefully, I will be able to fit all my art stuff and all my other junk. I will have to start looking for a chair for my bedroom on the street nearby. People in this area move in and out a lot. And often, they leave some of their furniture on the curb. I will have to keep my eyes open on my way to and from Tyler.

I spent the next few hours arranging things to my liking when I noticed that my stomach was growling. I stand next to the open door of the refrigerator to see if there is anything I want to eat. I was about to settle on a hamburger when I heard someone banging on the door, and then the banging got louder. I hear laughing. I two-time it to the door. Because the next thing I know, my neighbor will be complaining about the noise waking him up.

“OK, OK, I’m coming.” I unlock the door and pull it open, and what do you know? It’s three of my friends from Tyler holding a pizza box and a six-pack. “Come on in, but you have to keep it down cause the guy next door works at night, and he’s sleeping.”

They are laughing their heads off. They must have had some beer on the way over. I laugh at them. Then we are all laughing, and then I hear a banging on the wall from my neighbor, who doesn’t appreciate all the hilarity. I put my finger up to my lips. And then they start laughing again. “Come in, come in. Thanks for bringing the pizza. My stomach was growling, and I didn’t feel like eating a hamburger.”

They all start milling around the apartment. “Hey, this is great. We can crash here sometimes when we have a big project to do, and we have to stay up all night and work on it. And then we have to walk around the corner to school.” They all start clapping. The guy next door bangs on the wall again. They laugh. I laugh. The guy next door isn’t going to get any sleep today. Well, he must have been young once.

We decide to watch a movie on my computer. We settle on The Vast Of The Night, which is a scary- sci-fi movie. We start watching the movie and scarfing down the pizza, and guzzling the beer. We scream at all the scary parts and sometimes laugh hysterically. I’m laughing so hard that a piece of pizza shoots out of my mouth all the way across the room. And this brings on another round of hysterical laughter and banging on the wall.

After the movie, we decide to play Fortnite, and this is a game of elimination. The ideal ending is one character is left alive, and everyone else is murdered. We love this game and would play it all night if possible. In the middle of the game, my friend Jamie decides to get some more beer and snack food. When he returns, we start a new round of eating and drinking and laughing our heads off. My neighbor has given up on banging on the wall and has come to the door to complain in person.

He says, “Hey, I can’t get any sleep with all this racket. He looks furious, but when he sees that we are playing Fortnite, he says,’ excellent, can I join in? This is my favorite game.”

“Yeah, sure, and we just got more beer and snacks. Have a seat. “

And that, my friends, was the first night of the best three years of my life. And you only have one life. You should live it to the fullest. Whatever that means to you.”

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Tea Break

The bed creaks as Sarah wrestles with her sweaty sheets. She closes her eyes tightly against the early morning light. She knows what time it is because she wakes up at seven-thirty every single day. Even the sleeping pills on her bedside table don’t allow her one more moment of rest.

Strottles the cat Photo by Bob Culver

She gives in, opening one eye at a time, and looks out her bedroom window. It’s a sunny, unbearably bright day. Sarah slides her bony feet into her worn purple slippers. Slowly, reluctantly she makes her way into the blue-tiled bathroom with the matching blue toilet and sink. Turns on the hot water and lets it run into the sink until steam rises to the mirror and obscures her face. She plunges her hands into the fray of water and splashes it on her face. Grabs a towel and roughly dries her face.

Sarah returns to her bedroom and pulls on a pair of elasticized pants, shrugs on an old white tea shirt with a faded American flag on the front, and pushes her feet into her ancient yellow leather Keds.

Holding tightly to the railing as she descends the staircase. Sarah fears falling more than anything. She lives alone, save for her cat, that occasionally shares her bed. Strottles went out several nights ago and hasn’t returned yet. He has an active love life, a happy bachelor.

Sarah wouldn’t admit to anyone how jealous she was of her cat. That is, if she had anyone, she felt she could confide her deepest feelings. Although she often whispers them into her feline Lothario’s velvety ear. He at least has never betrayed her lonesome soul.

A week ago, Sarah ate a breakfast of burnt toast and Earl Grey tea. She heard Strottles meowing outside the kitchen door. Strottles stood at the bottom of the steps with five multi-colored kittens. Sarah blinked several times, stepped back into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her. She sits down, and a tear runs down her face into her teacup, adding a salty taste to her morning repast.

This morning Sarah once again hears meowing at the back door. She looks out the window on the door and sees a black and white kitten staring back at her. At that moment, Sarah realizes that although humans had often failed to be faithful friends and left her behind when she needed them the most, cats had not.

Sarah opens the door. She sees not one cat but five, and behind them, Strottles. “Well, come in, come in. The heat is going out the door.”

“Well, Strottles, you have been a busy boy. Now here you are with a family. Where’s the Mama?”

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Oh, can’t take a joke? Well, it doesn’t matter. Let me get you and your feline family something to eat. I think I have some canned food for the babies. And some dry food for you. And perhaps some milk as well.”

Sarah opens the pantry door and gazes inside its dark interior. And she pulls the string that turns on the light. It reveals a pantry that needs restocking. Luckily, she always has cat food since Strottles has a healthy appetite. She takes down two cans, Chicken Delight and Pate’ Turkey and Giblets. One of Strottle’s favorites.

She sets out five saucers and Strottles bowl and places a little wet food, and mixes the dry food in it. Strottles is an old cat, almost twelve, and is missing most of his teeth. But he still manages to devour both the wet and the dry food. He mustn’t have had much to eat since he left save for the occasional mouse.

“Here you go, lad and lassies, breakfast. And here is your bowl, Strottles, the proud papa. You’ve done yourself proud with this little family.”

“You know, Strottles, I should’ve gotten you fixed years ago, and I think I will do that now. But I will take care of your babies until I can find some families to adopt them. Eat up now. And I’m going to give each of these little kitties a bath with Dawn just in case they have any fleas and you too, Strottles. I know you hate baths, but you play. You pay as my dad used to say.”

After the kittens have eaten their fill, Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father, An orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah can see he is going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he has the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little. He keeps rubbing up against her legs.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Alright, Strottles, let me get the sink ready for your bath and clean you up. You look like you were sleeping rough. From now on, you will be staying in the house with your little family.”

As the sink fills with warm, soapy water, Sarah considers names for her new charges. She considers naming them after the Virtues of Prudence, Justice, Temperance, Fortitude, and Hope after she gets to know their personalities better.

She walks over to Strottles and picks him up. He protests by meowing as loudly as he can. Sarah ignores his crying and puts him gently in the sink. His meowing begins anew, but somehow, he is even louder.

Sarah says,” Settle down, it will be over before you know it, and then you can take a good long nap after your bath and toweling off. Sarah sprays Strottles and rubs Dawn over his body from his head to the tip of his striped tail. And then she rinses him off with warm water. Sarah rigorously towels Strottles off. As soon as she puts him down, he heads over to his cat bed in the living room and promptly falls asleep.

Sarah rinses off the sink and goes to the linen closet for some more towels for the kittens. Momentarily, she stops and thinks, what in the world am I going to do with six cats. She vows to herself not to get attached to the kittens.

It isn’t as easy bathing the kittens. Even though they are smaller, they’re so tiny they’re able to squirm and escape leaving trails of soapy water all along their escape path.

Sarah grabs the last kitten, who she decides to call Hope. She feels exhausted, and she’s dripping wet from head to toe. However, she can’t recall any time recently when she felt this happy and invigorated by anything she has undertaken.

Sarah walks over to the laundry room across from the kitchen. She puts a blanket in a box with a heating pad underneath it and places the kittens in one at a time. One of the kittens is the spitting image of his father. He is an orange-striped cat with emerald green eyes. Sarah sees he’s going to be a big cat like his dad. His feet are enormous. And he had the longest tail she had ever seen on a kitten this little. He keeps rubbing up against her legs, and he has the loudest purring she had ever heard come out of such a small cat.

After the kittens settle onto the blanket, Sarah covers them up to keep them warm. She stares down at her newly adopted family and feels a sense of contentment.

Sarah decides she better makes a trip to the grocery store to do a little food shopping. She changes her clothes and puts on her good shoes and coat with her purse grasped tightly in her hand. She has a nagging fear that someone will steal her purse, and then where would she be?

It isn’t easy getting old. Sarah often feels as if she’s alone and out to sea in a boat. She suddenly realizes that now she’s smiling and feels her spirit-lifting because she has a purpose now and isn’t alone anymore. She feels better than she has in weeks.

Sarah steps out her front door and closes it with a bang, and locks the top and the bottom lock. You can never be too careful. The Mom and Pop grocery store is only a ten-minute walk, and Sarah quick steps it to the corner where she runs into Gloria. An old friend she hasn’t seen in months.

“Gloria, what a surprise to see you. I heard you moved in with your son after you had that heart attack scare. How are you? I’ve missed you so much. I don’t have your son’s address, so I couldn’t even send you a Get Well card.”

“I’m much better. I just came home two days ago. I was on my way to your house to see you. I should have written or called you. But for the first couple of months, I was in a nursing facility, and I was depressed. Then once I moved in with my son, they kept me busy every minute of the day. Where are you going? I’ll go with you. Maybe we could stop and have some tea at Tea Break. I have so missed their Ginseng Tea.”

“Why, that sounds like an excellent idea. I would love nothing better. I have some great news to tell you. You know, Strottles, my cat. He showed up this morning after being missing for quite a while, and he returned with a litter of kittens. And one is his spitting image. Anyway, this morning I bathed them all, and now I’m on the way to buy some supplies.”

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order. What are you going to do with a litter of kittens? I would love to have one. It gets lonely living alone. On the other hand, living with my son and daughter-in-law and my four grandchildren was wonderful but exhausting.”

“Really, well, after lunch, you can come over and meet the kitties. And spend time with them until you decide which will be best for you.”

As Sarah and Gloria continue on their way to Tea Break, they see their mutual friend Connie waving at them from across the street. They wave back and cross the street. Simultaneously, they say, “Hi, Connie. How are you?”

“Well, I’m better now that I see you two. Gloria, I heard you were back. I’m so happy to see you looking so well. Where are you two off to?”

“Connie, we ran into each other as I was walking downtown to get some supplies for Strottles’ kitties. And then, we decided to go to Tea Break and tell each other what we have been up to.”

“Well, that sounds like fun. Would three be a crowd? I would love to join you. I haven’t been out of my house in a month of Sundays.”

“Well, that would be great. ”

“Can you two give me a few minutes to run a comb through my hair and put a jacket on? I would love to catch up. I missed seeing you, Gloria. I heard you were staying with your son while you recovered.”

“Yes, but I’m much better now that I’m back home. I loved spending time with my grandchildren. I’ll tell you all about it at Tea Break. We’ll wait out here while you grab a jacket.”

“Gloria, this is turning out to be a wonderful morning. First, Strottles shows up with his beautiful kittens. And now you’re home, and we meet up with Connie. And we’re all going out for a get-together. ”

“You’re right. I feel like a weight is off my chest. It will be such fun. I think we need to make this a regular thing for us to do together. ”

“You’re right. Sometimes there are days when I don’t see or speak to another soul.”

“I hate to admit it, but that’s true for me too. And there is no reason on god’s earth for that to happen when we all live right down the street from one another, a short walk or phone call away.’

“And we can all thank Strottles for getting together because of his wanton ways. He is an old scoundrel, but I love him. Oh, here comes Connie. Let’s go.”

“Look out, world, here we come. Hey, while we’re at it, why don’t we stop and see the matinee at the Roxy Theater and then have some dinner on me.”

“Sound like a plan. So Sarah, what have you been up to? Anything new?”

“I’ll say, but let’s walk up to Tea Break, and then I’ll tell you the whole story.”

Childhood Isn’t Always What It Is Cracked Up To Be

I skipped and half-ran down to the corner house. Darlene Domeraski’s house. I looked forward to the visit all day. While I suffered through the dear nuns ranting and raving, all the way to the three o’clock bell at dismissal.

I absolutely loved going to Darlene’s house not because she was my best friend because she wasn’t. She was Janet Rathgab’s best friend.

I loved her house because she had her own bedroom with a giant queen-sized bed that had a down-filled comforter. She had a closet full of dresses made for her.

Sea Turtle

I did covet everything that lived her kitchen cupboards and inside the oven where they stored their snacks.

Darlene’s father came home about four-thirty that afternoon. He called Darlene outside and said,” Hey, Darlene and Susie I have something to show you.” I followed her to the driveway next to the grapevine where we often ate so many grapes, we got sick. He called us over again. “Come here girls take a look.” He let us stand on the back of the truck bumper. As we peered down, I saw a beautiful sea turtle. I was about to reach out and touched it when he pulled out a long knife and cut off the turtle’s head.

I screamed as loud as I have screamed in my ten years of life. I jumped off the bumper of his truck and ran the two blocks to my home. Just as I reached my house, with tears streaming down my face I got sick on the sidewalk. I stood there crying until my tears ran dry.

I wiped my eyes dry with the sleeve of my favorite yellow sweater and took a deep breath and ran up to my front door, and into the kitchen. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table. My father said, “hey Susabelle, what’s the matter? Were you crying?

I looked at my father and then over at my mother and I said. “What no, I just ran all the way home so I wouldn’t be late for dinner. I never went over Darlene’s house again. I never coveted her house, her clothes or her room again either.

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WRITE ON

Writer's Blog by Susan A. Culver

Tag Archives: friends

SO APPARENTLY, IT’S BACK TO SQUARE ONE

LIFE’S HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

YOU WERE NEVER PROMISED PARADISE

YOU GOT IT MADE IN THE SHADE

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

A COLD WINTER’S DAY

THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE

Tea Break

Childhood Isn’t Always What It Is Cracked Up To Be