Tag Archives: marriage

DOUBLE THE TROUBLE AND DOUBLE THE BLESSINGS

1 Reply

I chanced upon an article written about twins, both fraternal and identical. This intrigued me because I am a fraternal twin. My sister and I were born seven minutes apart in 1951. My mother was forty-one when we were born. She had already given birth to four children. My brother, Hugh, was the oldest. He was born nineteen years before my twin in 1932. My oldest sister, Jeanie, was born in 1936. My sister, Eileen, was born in 1943, and my sister, Elizabeth, was born in 1944.

Susan and Karen -1951

Susan and Karen-born 1951

My mother had a second set of twins, Stephen and Girard. Unfortunately, they did not survive. When my twin and I were growing up, my following oldest sisters, Eileen and Liz, lived at home. My brother and oldest sister were married and living in their own homes with children.

I don’t remember too much of my early years. I recall going to my first day of grade school. We lived two houses down from the Catholic Church, and the Catholic elementary school was next to the church. The Catholic Church significantly impacted our lives since we lived so close to it; my twin and I also attended Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School for eight years. My sister and I stayed after school to help clean up the classrooms and sometimes the bathrooms. I never questioned it at the time. It was just another chore for the dear Sisters. It wasn’t until I was out of school that I realized why my sister and I had to do chores at the school and the convent. A convent was the name of the residence where the Sisters lived. It was a payment and supplied the tuition my parents paid for our eight years of attending Catholic elementary school.

On Friday after school, my sister and I would walk to the convent to do our chores. My sister, Karen, was tasked with ironing some of the nun’s vestments and ironing the altar silks that protected the altar. I was glad I didn’t have to do the ironing because I wouldn’t say I liked it. I saw my poor mother ironing every day when I came home from school, and I didn’t want to end up doing that. So, my job was to clean the storage room where the sisters had their canned goods. In addition, I had to clean the shelves. It was an easy but tedious job. I did this for eight years. I never questioned it; I just did it as a matter of course.

Because my sister and I were twins and always in the same classroom, my sister and I didn’t get along. Because we shared the same bedroom for most of our lives and then had to share the same classroom for eight years, Karen often would not acknowledge that I was her twin sister. Our classmates knew there were two sets of twins in our class. One was Marie and Martin Mc Cale. Who were fraternal twins since they were a boy and a girl? And Karen and I looked no more alike than Marie and Martin McCale. Whenever Karen could, she would ignore my presence. Many people in my elementary school believed my twin was Helen Hartman, one of my best friends, and we looked somewhat alike.

When Karen and I were about to graduate from elementary school, we had to take entrance exams to attend Catholic High Schools, Holy Cross High School, and St. Mary of the Angels Academy. My parents wanted us to attend St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy in Haddonfield. We both passed the entrance exams because it was an all-girl high school. And so, we attended St. Mary of the Angels Academy for four years and graduated in 1969. I was happy when I graduated since I had twelve years of Catholic School, which was enough for me.

St. Mary of The Angels Academy 1969

St. Mary of the Angels Academy Graduation 1969

St. Mary of the Angel’s Academy found jobs for Karen and me since we wouldn’t go to college as my parents could not afford it. And my grades weren’t good enough to get a scholarship. I missed my high school friends, who were all going away to college. And I didn’t see them again until I was invited to a twentieth reunion. Looking back on my high school experience, I realize I benefited from it in many ways. One reason was that it was an all-girls school, unlike Catholic Elementary School, which showed favoritism towards boys. St. Mary’s geared its education to benefit girls. The employment position Saint Mary of the Angels Academy found for me was working as a dental assistant for a dentist, Dr. Edward G. Wozniak, in Haddon Township, New Jersey. Dr. Wozniak taught me everything I needed to learn to be his assistant. He was a kind and decent man. And I worked for him for many years. I decided to look for a different job because I had to work all day, four nights a week, and Saturday mornings at the dental office. And I could only take a vacation for the five days he and his family took their vacation. This prevented me from going out with friends, having fun, or going on a summer vacation. So, eventually, I decided to look for a different type of employment. And that is when I ended up working for the Ellis Brothers. And that, my friends, was the beginning of a whole other kind of experience.

By this time, my sister had been working for several years and found she had a business head. She was promoted to manager in a short time. She worked in the auto business for many years and was quite successful.

During the time I was working at the Ellis Brothers, my oldest girlfriend they told me that her cousin, Bobby, was coming to visit them in New Jersey. She asked me if I wanted to come over while he was staying since I had a crush on him. And I said, “Yes, I did.” And that was the beginning of a significant change in my life. Bob and I went out, and then he had to return to Florida, where his parents lived. Bob and I kept in touch with each other for many months, and eventually, I decided that I was going to move to Florida. My parents were not happy. But it didn’t try to stop me from moving there. But it was clear they were upset. And so I took an auto-train to Florida, about a twelve-hour trip. And that was the beginning of a new life for me. I found employment at an insurance company, and soon after that, Bob and I were married. This was 1974, and I had just turned twenty-three years old.

That was fifty years ago, and we have two grown children and have been retired to North Carolina for eight years. I’m not saying everything was perfect all those years; we had ups and downs. We take one day at a time now. Although I never had the pleasure of any grandchildren, I do have two dogs, four parrots, and six finches.

I have volunteered at an animal sanctuary for the last eight years, caring for parrots and pheasants. I have also continued writing short stories and memoirs for the past eight years and working in my garden. Who could ask for anything more?

 

 

 

HAPPINESS

1 Reply

Have you ever contemplated the things in life that bring you happiness? Some people think they would be happy if they had unlimited money and could buy anything they wanted.

Well, I have never been rich, nor do I believe that I will suddenly be endowed with a tremendous amount of money at any time in the future. And to tell the truth, from my own experience, things do not bring you happiness for long. I have lived a long time, and for the most part, I found happiness is not a result of an expensive car, a trip around the world, or unlimited funds.

What brought me happiness in my life was setting goals for myself and then achieving those goals through my own hard work and efforts. What were my goals over my lifetime, you may ask? The first goal I set for myself was to get married, have children, and own our own house. When I was thirty-four, my husband and I purchased a small home in Pennsauken, NJ. After years of trying to have children at thirty years of age, I was able to conceive my first child, after many years of trying. Three years later, I gave birth to my second and last child.

So, now that I have a family and a home, I still desire to achieve more on a personal level. And at the age of thirty-six, I made the decision to go to college and get a degree. I have always been a creative and artistic person. And so I decided to go to art school. I applied to three art schools in the Philadelphia area: Temple University, Hussian School of Art, and Moore College of Art. I had to prepare a portfolio of my best work. I was interviewed at each school, and they examined my portfolio. After several weeks, I received notice that I had been accepted to all three schools. However, Temple University offered me a grant for my first semester and financial aid. And that is why I attended Temple University for four years.

The Tyler School of Art

It turned out that I was the only adult student in the freshman class. And the only married Freshman student who was married and had children. The other students were of the traditional age of seventeen or eighteen, so I attended Temple University for the next four years. It was difficult because I had to travel to Philadelphia from NJ. Which was an added expense, not only did I have to pay tuition, but I had the added expense of driving back and forth but I had to pay bridge tolls to get from NJ to Philadelphia. And then there was the cost of all the art supplies I needed.

As far as child care, I had friends who lived several blocks from my house. They agreed to watch my two children after school and during the school year. I also took care of their daughter during holidays and throughout the summer.

And if you think going to work and having children at home is difficult, then let me tell you, going to college with two children was a lot harder. I waited until my kids went to bed, and then I worked many hours doing the schoolwork required in my classes the next day.

However, the fact is that although I stood out like a sore thumb from my freshman year through my senior year, I was one of the most popular students in that class. I befriended every person I met in all my classes, including some teachers. I’m not sure how the instructors felt at first glance. They realized that I was older than all the other freshmen. And although I looked younger than my thirty-six years, I certainly didn’t look seventeen or eighteen as all the other Freshman students were.

I believe the teachers liked having me in their classes since most of them called on me to answer questions and give my opinion when none of the other students responded. They often hadn’t done the required work, but I always did. Mainly, I was mature and not afraid to speak in front of the class. And I had committed to myself to excel in every class, even if I never got any sleep.

I could not say I was the most talented student in class because I wasn’t. But, I was the most motivated student. I wanted to succeed and excel, and I always did my best. I had never had any art classes in school during elementary school or high school since I had attended Catholic School, and they did not teach the arts at all. However, I was always a creative child and adolescent. I was always drawing, or writing, or making crafts. I learned to sew when I was quite young and knew how to make clothes, costumes, and everything related to crafts. In addition, I love to read. I applied for one when I was old enough to get a library card. I went to the library every week to get new books. I grew up in the small town of Maple Shade, NJ. And although it was not a big library, it was only two rooms. The librarians were always helpful, and they would put aside books for me to read.

It was a bit of a surprise to my extended family that I was attending college at this late stage. No one tried to discourage me, nor did they show any interest in what I was doing. I have to admit that going to school full-time and still coming home to cook, clean the house, do the wash, and take care of my two young children was a big undertaking.

But since I had committed to doing the best I could and succeeded, I did just that. I graduated at the top of my class with a 4.0 average with two degrees, including an art teaching certificate. Unfortunately, after graduating, all the other students who graduated from my class and I found out that there were very few openings for art teachers in public schools since art had been removed from the public school curriculum. I can not imagine what was the thinking behind that decision. But, nonetheless, it happened.

After realizing there wouldn’t be any teaching position for me. I decided that I would start my own art program. Because of that decision, we had to sell our house in Pennsauken and move to another town, where we purchased a large, old house that had been unoccupied for eight years or more. It needed an immediate roof replacement. We had paired off our house in Pennsauken and used that income to put a down payment on the house in Pitman and the roof repair. The house in Pitman had been empty for eight years and needed a lot of work. It was a doctor’s home and office, and there were three rooms that I could use for my art classes.

Our house is in Pitman, NJ, where I have taught art for years.

And that is exactly what I did. As a result, I opened my own small art school for children in the afternoon and adults in the evening. I had this school for many years until my own children were out of elementary school and going to college. We then decided it was time to sell our home of twenty-four years and retire. And that is what we did, and then we retired and moved to North Carolina. And we have been living here for almost nine years. We will always miss our Pitman house, but there was no way we could continue to live in New Jersey because of the increase in real estate taxes.

And so, here I sit retired and living in North Carolina, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary for eight years. I started a blog and have written short stories and memoirs for the last eight years. I keep my mind and body busy and active as much as possible. I don’t know what might change in my remaining years or what I might decide to do, but I promise you this: whatever I do, I will put everything I have into it. And it will be interesting. I guess you will just have to wait and find out what it may be, and so will I.

TIME FLIES BY IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE

1 Reply

Today, I was looking at a post on Facebook called 1970’s Memories. I enjoy looking at this page because I was young in the 1970s and have many good memories from that time. The page is geared towards Baby Boomers, of whom I am one. Baby boomers were born between 1946 and 1964. we had several character traits that define our overall character. People in our generation often were known for their workplace visibility and prided themselves in their work ethic and their competitive natures in the workplace. Now, I can not prove this is true for every boomer, but I’m sure I was a person who, once I graduated from high school, found a job immediately with the help of the high school I attended, St. Mary of the Angels Academy in Haddonfield, NJ. It was a Catholic all-girls school.

     Once I started working, I found that I enjoyed it. I was hired as a dental assistant for Dr. E.G. Wozniak in Oaklyn, NJ. Dr. Wozniak trained me, and I worked there for almost five years. During those early work years, I purchased my first car, a 1970 Yellow Volkswagon Bug. I loved that car like it was my first child.

high school graduation picture

Susan Culver- high school graduation picture

The only problem was I had to work several night shifts in addition to working during the day. And I had to work on Saturdays. This limited my free time to go out and have fun with my friends. At the time, we used to go to nightclubs with bands and go dancing. During the Summer, my friends and I used to all rent a hotel room together in Wildwood, NJ (a beach town) and spend Friday night at the nightclubs and Saturday and Sunday on the beach and the boardwalk.

     I decided that I wanted to change jobs to have more time to have fun, less work on Saturdays, and several late nights each week. I decided to find a new job that would allow me that flexibility. At that time, I was twenty-one years old and lived in a small apartment in Haddonfield, NJ. My parents were unhappy with me moving out but did not try to stop me. My father came to the apartment I was going to rent before I signed the lease. And I guess he decided it was in a safe enough area, down the street from Haddon Avenue, which was the main street in Haddonfield, which is an affluent area in NJ. Still, it was clear both of my parents missed me living at home as I was the last of their children who lived at home. All my older siblings were married, and most had started their families years before as my two eldest siblings were twenty years older than I was, and the two other sisters were seven or eight years older and married with children.

     After giving my notice to Dr. Wozniak, who was not happy with me leaving but nonetheless gave me a positive resume and reference after I found a job in Collingswood, NJ, located at Ellis Insurance Company, which sold high-risk auto insurance, I worked in the office with two other girls my age. I enjoyed not being the only employee. Harry and Evie Ellis were from a wealthy family and lacked strong work ethics. They would take me and my two co-workers to breakfast almost every morning. Overall, it was a fun place to work, and I continued to work there for a couple of years.

     That is until I was fixed up for a date with my best friend, Joan’s boy cousin, who just got out of the Navy. He had visited his cousins in NJ before returning to Florida, where his parents and younger siblings lived. And that, my friend, was the beginning of a whole new chapter of my life. After “Bob” returned to Florida, he and I began writing letters to each other. One thing led to another, and I decided to move to Florida, so I gave my notice at work, made arrangements to take the auto train to Florida, and, of course, told my parents what I was up to. As you can imagine, they were not too thrilled. But nonetheless, they did not try to stop me. Although, it was clear that they were not happy with their youngest child moving over a thousand miles away from them. They didn’t try to talk me out of it. The day I left, both of my parents stood outside and watched me while I drove away. They were crying.

     A close friend told me about an auto train I could take. I had to drive from Lorton, Virginia, to Sanford, Florida. Then, my car would be loaded onto the train, and I would be seated in the passenger section. I had never driven this far from home but was somehow I managed to figure out the best route to take to the auto train and get there without any problem. I did manage to arrive several hours early, and I had to wait in my car until the auto-train arrived. It was extremely hot that day. Luckily, there was a toll phone in the parking lot, so I could call my parents and let them know I arrived safely in Lorton, Virginia. This was long before cell phones. So, I sat and waited for the train to arrive. It was a long, hot wait all alone. My parents were relieved that I arrived safely. And asked me to please call when I arrived in Florida and met up with Bob.

     It turned out that it was a seventeen-hour ride from Lorton, Virginia, to Sandford, Florida. It was a long ride; I didn’t have the opportunity to be bored because a mother and her two small toddlers were sitting next to me. So, between crying, never sitting still, and trying to climb over me, it was a long, long seventeen hours. I had many years of experience babysitting my nieces and nephews when they were little. But, I never had to sit for seventeen hours with two little kids crawling all over me and alternately crying, screaming, and having their stinky diapers changed right next to me.

At some point, out of sheer exhaustion, I fell asleep for several hours. When I woke up my stomach was empty and my bladder was full, I got up and looked for the laboratory, and found there was a long, long line to wait. But, what could I do, I waited. And the bathroom was “not large, to say the least. And the smell was overpowering, but luckily, I had a poor sense of smell, so I survived it.

     When I got back to my seat, the mother of the two kids had laid the older of the two toddlers to sleep in my seat. I stood there and stared at her because there was no place for me to sit. There were no empty seats. So, I finally said, “ Please move one of your babies. I have to sit down. I can’t stand in the aisle all day. She gave me a sour look and then growled and moved the smaller of the two toddlers. Who immediately started screaming. All I can say is it was a long, long, long ride.

     When we finally arrived at Sanford, Florida, we had to wait to get off the train, and there was a long, long wait for my car to get out. Because I was the first person to arrive, and my car would be the last one to be unloaded. It took what seemed like a lifetime because of the ungodly heat. But I survived, and then I saw my yellow Volkswagon coming down the ramp. I mistakenly believed that Bob would arrive shortly, but he didn’t since he had worked the night shift at Pratt and Whitney and had to drive to Sanford, which took several hours. I had no way of contacting him, so I just had to wait until he arrived. And he did, and I was never so happy to see someone. He looked tired but also happy.

     That, my friends, was the beginning of my new life. We began with a long drive to my new home, a one-bedroom apartment in a small complex called Nighh Haven Apartments. The apartment was owned by a middle-aged couple that seemed old to me at the time since I was twenty-two. But they were probably in their early fifties and had many years ahead of them. They were nice people.

The next step in my new life was getting a job. Bob had a cousin who recommended that I apply at an insurance company where she worked when she was living in Florida, and that is exactly what I did. And I was hired to sell high-risk auto and homeowners insurance. I worked there for several months. And then Bob and I got married, and when I returned to work, I was called into the main office and was notified that their company was having difficulties and that they were laying off all the older employees and all the new ones. And just like that, I was unemployed and had a limited amount of money.

     I looked for a new job for weeks, only to find that the economy in Florida at that time was not good. And companies were laying off employees right and left. And they weren’t hiring new employees from out of state at all. After months of looking for a job, I attended a hairdressing school. West Palm Beach Beauty Academy. I enjoyed the experience, and it turned out I was pretty good at cutting hair, perming hair, and styling, especially among the older ladies. I made a lot of friends in the hair-dressing school. Some of whom I kept in contact with for many years after we left Florida and moved to California. And that, my friends, is another story.

 

REGRETS, I’VE HAD A FEW, BUT THEN AGAIN TOO FEW TO MENTION

1 Reply

I grew up in an Irish Catholic family. There were six children in our family. My fraternal twin sister and I were the youngest, and then I had three older sisters; the oldest one was fifteen years older, and the next two were seven and eight years older than I was. My oldest sibling was my only brother, who was nineteen years older than me.

My childhood home in Maple Shade, NJ

One of the things that I experienced during my childhood was that my family was not big huggers. In fact, I recall very little physical affection from my parents or my siblings. For that matter, it was a rare occasion when my mother or my father told me that they loved me. As for my siblings, I don’t remember them ever showing any affection to me. I’m not saying that they didn’t love each other. I’m saying love and affection were not displayed. I believe at some level that we cared about each other, but we rarely expressed it. I believe that this was a trait that originated within the Irish Culture in Ireland. And since both of my grandparents originated in Ireland, you might say that this lack of showing love or affection was a trait that their parents and their parents and previous generations displayed. And it has occurred to me that if I had grown up in Ireland, this lack of affection might not have affected me so deeply because in Ireland, this is a trait of people in Ireland.

But, since I was born and grew up in America, I knew people and families whose families originated in many other countries. My oldest and best friend’s family was Italian. Her family were affectionate to one another and often expressed verbally their love for one another. I spent a great deal of my childhood at my best friend’s house, and I couldn’t help but notice how often my friend’s mother and father hugged her and told her they loved her. It made me feel sad. I recall asking my mother one day why she and my father didn’t hug me or tell me they loved me. She didn’t really respond to my question. So, for most of my life, I questioned whether my parents loved me.

As I grew up, I came to realize that both my father and mother loved me. And they demonstrated it with their concern and care for my well-being. My mother took care of me when I became ill or if I fell and was injured while playing. She worried about me when I went on bike rides and didn’t come back for hours. She worried when I went to visit my friends and didn’t come back on time for meals. My parents showed their love by enrolling me and my sister and my older sisters in Catholic School for twelve years, which was a financial burden for them. Not to mention that my mother cooked hot meals every day of the twenty years that I lived at my familial home, even when she worked a full-time job.

As I look back over the course of my life, I recognize that I have had difficulty showing my feelings. However, what I have also recognized about my nature is that I have a big heart. That I showed my care and love for people in different ways. Since I was a young girl, my older siblings married moved to their own homes, and started their own families. I found out that I loved being around their children. I enjoyed taking care of them and showing my love for them by hugging them and playing with them. I didn’t have any issues showing affection toward them I loved them as if they were my own younger siblings.

I looked forward to the time when I would fall in love, get married, and have children. And over time, all these events did take place. I had my first child when I was thirty and my second child when I was thirty-four. And I can say without a doubt that there were no two children who were loved more than I loved my daughters. They were not perfect children, and I know I was not the perfect mother. But I love them both with all my heart through the good times and the bad. I also recognize that when they were young, they received many more hugs and kisses than they received when they became adolescents. Adolescents can be like prickly pears.

It was never a matter of me loving them less, but they seemed less able to accept and respond to my affection. Adolescence is a difficult time for both the adolescent and the parents. They are moving forward and away from their families, and perhaps I, along with most parents, attempt to hold on more tightly, perhaps too tightly to them, which causes them to rebel and react negatively.

Parenting an adolescent is perhaps the most difficult challenge anyone can have in their life. Because during that time, adolescents are attempting to move away from childhood and move towards independence. Which is the natural order of things but still a painful time for parents. And a challenging time for adolescents.

I have to admit during my children’s adolescence, there weren’t a lot of hugs and kisses. I regret that, but it is hard to hug someone who makes it their life’s goal to move as far away from you physically and emotionally as they possibly can. And they are just as willing to leave with angry, hateful words.

When I left home at age twenty, I talked to my parents in advance. I was not angry, I still loved them both with my whole heart. I was just ready to move forward in my life and my independence. And that included having started working full-time by the time I was eighteen. I bought my own new car and found an apartment in a town thirty minutes drive from where I grew up. I became responsible for my own expenses, including car insurance, health insurance, rent, and food.

Everyone doesn’t take the same path in life. And life often offers us challenges that are difficult to overcome. Sometimes it is better to take one day at a time, one step at a time. And sometimes, it is better to make that leap of faith in yourself that you are capable of being independent.

On the other hand, growing up doesn’t have to mean growing apart. But sometimes it does. When I was twenty-three, I moved to Florida and got married. Then, my new husband and I moved to Santa Barbara, California, so that he could attend Brooks Institute of Photography. I did not move back to New Jersey for seven years. It was a time of growth, both mentally and emotionally. And I returned a much more independent, mature young woman.

After we arrived back in New Jersey, we stayed with my parent until my husband found a job, and then we decided to buy a small home in Pennsauken, NJ. It was only about a ten-minute drive to Maple Shade, where my parents lived. In fact, my father was one of our first visitors.

When I was thirty years old, I had our first child, and three years later, we had our second child. It was a challenging time for us, and we were so happy and blessed to have my parents in our lives. Becoming a new parent and a stay-at-home Mom for several years was challenging and rewarding. On the other hand, I often felt isolated because I spent most of my time alone with two young children.

When my oldest daughter was in the second grade, and my youngest daughter was in preschool, I made the decision to go to college, and I was accepted at three art schools: Hussian, Moore, and Temple Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia. I decided to attend Tyler School of Art because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year. After the first year, I applied for student loans to continue my education.

The Tyler School of Art 1991

It was difficult balancing going to college and being a wife and mother. But, with the help of friends, I was able to do just that. I graduated at forty-one with a Bachelor of Arts and a teaching certificate. I was in the top ten percent of Temple University in 1991. It was a challenging four years for me, my children, and my family. My oldest daughter was in the fifth grade, and my youngest was in second grade when I graduated. I have to admit it was one of the hardest but most rewarding challenges I ever faced, both for me and my husband and two children. During my four years in college, I spent my time with my children when I was home. After they went to bed at night, I did my school work and studied sometimes long into the night. When I was on school break and during the summer, I spent all my time with my children. It was a growing experience for all of us.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

YOUR PURPOSE IN LIFE IS WHAT GIVES YOUR LIFE MEANING

2 Replies

It has been six months since I signed my final divorce papers were signed. This could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on whether you want a divorce or not. I was not the one seeking a divorce. It never even occurred to me that I would ever get a divorce. I married for life.

And then, two days before our twenty-fifth anniversary, my husband sent me an email from work. An email, can you believe it? And it said, sorry Cassie, but I can no longer live this lie. I haven’t loved you for a long time. Life is short. I’ve found my true love, and I have filed for divorce. I hope you will find “real” love and happiness in the future. I know this is the best thing for both of us. My lawyer will be contacting you.

Divorce papers

 

My first thought was, oh that Charlie, he’s such a joker. And then I laughed and laughed. I kept laughing up until I decided to go upstairs to our bedroom and check his closet. It was empty except for his old slippers that had a hole in the sole of the right slipper. I must have stared at the empty closet for fifteen minutes. Until I finally realized that if this was one of his jokes, it wasn’t funny at all. Then I grabbed my cell phone and called Charlie’s cell. The message said, phone number disconnected. I called his boss’s office and asked, “did Charlie come to work today? “Oh hello, Cassie,” no, of course not, didn’t Charlie tell you he was transferred to the Milwaukee office. Today is his first day there. But, you knew that already I’m sure.”

“Oh yes, of course, he did. It slipped my mind. I’ve been so busy. He forgot to give me his new cell number could you give me that. I have to tell him something important.”

“Of course, I’ll text it to you right now. However, he might still be on the road. I was surprised that you didn’t show up for his Bon Voyage party yesterday. We missed seeing you. “

“Oh yeah, the Bon Voyage party. I have been running around like a crazy person trying to get ready for the move. Take care, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

I ended the call, and then I plopped down on the floor and cried like a baby for a good hour. I felt like my heart actually broke. It was beating very hard, painfully hard. I thought I might be having a heart attack. I cried until I ran out of tears. I was having trouble breathing. I think I must have passed out for a while.

When I came to my senses, I was splayed out on the floor. I crawled over to the bed and pulled myself up. The little voice inside my head was screaming, “how could you be so stupid? All the nights that Charlie stayed at work ’till midnight. He slept on the couch all night and told me he had work to do on the computer and didn’t want to keep me up. He barely gave me a peck on the cheek when he left to go to work or for a work trip. How could I be so stupid?” Of course, he was having an affair. I just wouldn’t let myself see it.

Charlie and I were high school sweethearts, the prom King, and Queen. We attended the same university together. Sophomore year we moved into an efficiency apartment together. We were inseparable. We were so happy with just the two of us that we decided that we didn’t want children. We agreed that our lives were complete with just him and me. And now here I am twenty-five years later. No Charlie, no kids, just an empty house and me. And that is when it occurred to me that Charlie would probably hire his best friend Kevin Gipson, the most cutthroat divorce lawyer, to represent him, and I would be left with nothing.

Two hours later, I was sitting in the office of Mary Cunningham. She and I attended the University of Penn together. She attended law school and headed her own top-notch firm. And I majored in Biology, and for the past ten years, I have dedicated my life to saving our environment, and it has been an uphill battle the whole time.

And what this tells you is that I am not a person that gives up easily or ever. I will fight up until I breathe my last breath. But because of my commitment to saving the planet, I am often absent or missing in action, as Charlie says at least once a day. He kept telling me that I was an absentee wife. Charlie doesn’t believe a woman’s career is as important as a man’s. I disagreed.

Six months later, we met at Charlie’s lawyer’s office. He sat there looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He even smiled at me and said, “I hope you are doing well.”

As soon as I looked at him, I felt bile rise in my mouth. I asked if I could get a drink of water. And like magic, it appeared in front of me in less than a minute. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. At least he didn’t try to extend the conversation. I felt like leaping across the table and choking him. I tried to calm myself. I knew things would only go from bad to worse if I lost it, even for a minute. I looked at him again, and he looked like a total stranger to me. The Charlie I loved and cherished just didn’t exist any longer. I knew I was mourning a marriage that had died a long time ago when neither of us was paying attention.

My lawyer, Mary Cunningham, was having a conversation with Charlie’s lawyer. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying to each other. I tried to calm myself. I felt like everything that had happened in the last month was out of my control, Charlie’s departure and the end of my marriage. It was as if everything was fast forward, and I had no way of controlling either the direction or how quickly things happened. I felt lost and empty.

After about a half-hour of debate between the two lawyers, they completed an agreement of equitable divorce.  We each had our investments. I can live in the house until we sold it. Then we will divide the proceeds of all our assets except for those in our possession before our marriage. The lawyers shook hands, and so did Charlie and I. It felt so anti-climatic. As if it was a Fourth of July Fireworks Celebration and all the fireworks were duds. Charlie stood next to me and shook my hand and said, “no hard feelings Cassie, I hope you will find happiness in the future. And oh, by the way, Barb and I are going to have a baby. I thought you should hear it from me.”

“A baby, a baby? You told me you never wanted or needed to have children. That the two of would always be enough. “

Well, feelings change. And besides, Barb wants to be a stay-at-home mom with the baby. She feels that women that have children should raise them and not shuttle them off to daycare and babysitters. She believes having a child is a commitment, not a choice.”

“Oh, is that right, Charlie. Well, good luck to you both. I feel as if I’m talking to a stranger. I don’t know what else to say. Congratulations on the baby. My lawyer will contact you regarding the sale of our house; I mean the house. Goodbye.”

Some part of me wanted to reach out and hug him one more time. It all seemed so unreal to me. I felt my lip quiver a bit, and I was afraid I was going to start bawling in front of Charlie and the lawyers. And that’s when Charlie reached out and pulled me close to him and said, “I’m so sorry for hurting you. I didn’t plan any of it. It just happened. I felt like you left me a long, long time ago. I wish only the best for you in whatever your future brings to you.”

I took a deep breath and swallowed, and managed to hug him back. I couldn’t believe it would be for the last time. “Goodbye, Charlie. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss you. I will. I do wish you happiness as well. Goodbye, take care.

And I turned around and shook Mary Cunningham’s hand and said,” I’ll contact you when our house sells. I was just offered the lead position with the Office of Global Change in the Department of State. I believe I will finally be able to make a real difference now.”

“Cassie, I wish you only the best. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I know that you will do great things in your life. And I will be able to say I knew you when.”

Then we shook hands and turned and walked in different directions. I didn’t hear from him again until his baby was born, and he sent me a picture. I congratulated him. And I was truly happy that he had a life that made him truly happy as he seemed to be.

And I was happy in my work, which was always paramount to me. I knew that whatever happened now would make a difference not just to me but to the world at some level. I got ready for bed because tomorrow would bring me more challenges, and I would meet them.

To read more, enter your email address to Subscribe to my Blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

THE BEGINNING OFTEN STARTS WITH AN ENDING

2 Replies

Jessica finishes her early morning walk around Strawbridge Lake. She looks down the tree lined path and over at the beautiful Oak tree that‘s silhouetted by the rising sun.

Every morning she wakes up at precisely six o’clock in the morning. She washes her face, brushes her teeth, and runs a comb quickly through her salt and pepper hair. Then she heads out to her ten-year-old VW wagon and drives about a mile and a half to the park for her walk. She’s a creature of habit.

She used to walk around the downtown section of Moorestown. But she stopped doing that since she doesn’t want to run into anyone she knows. Who either offers her their condolences or cross to the other side of the street or ducks into a store to avoid an awkward meeting with her.

It’s difficult to talk to someone who has recently lost a loved one. Or worse yet to run into someone who was in the process of a messy divorce, and then her or his spouse suddenly passes away. After all, what can you say, should you offer condolences, or congratulations? Dear Abby, would be hard put to tell you just the right words in this situation.

Jessica feels conflicted herself. After all she asked for a divorce. She had been very unhappy for a long time. She keeps reliving that day over and over in her head, the conversation, his incredulous expression, and then his burst of anger. She’s rehearsed the conversation in her head for days before she finally worked up the nerve to say the words.

“Al, I have something to tell you. I want out, of this house, and out of this town. I want to start over, somewhere else. A new life, a new beginning, far from here.”

“What are you talking about Jessica? I have a business, my family is here, and our life is here. I can’t move away, start over, don’t be ridiculous we’re not teenagers. You just can’t run away and start over because you’re bored. Get a new hobby, get a new job, for god’s sake, don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t understand Al. I want a divorce. And I want to get away from you, and your family, with their constant interference, offering their unwanted advice. Second-guessing every little decision and choice we have ever made. I have already contacted a lawyer.”

That’s when Al’s face changed into a face she didn’t recognize, one filled with anger and resentment in a single moment. She never saw him smile again or say anything but words echoing his feelings of resentment and anger. He spent that night in a hotel, and then looked for an apartment to live in until the divorce was finalized.

Jessica starts making plans for her new and improved life. She walks every day at the park, gets her hair colored a more becoming shade of brunette without the gray highlights. She loses weight and goes clothes shopping for a trendy new style of clothing. She begins to transform herself, inside and out.

And then two weeks before the court date for their divorce, Al has a massive heart attack while at work, sitting at his desk making out his quarterly reports. No time to get him to the hospital, or perform CPR, just dead on arrival at Kennedy Hospital.

The next week is a blurry memory, planning the funeral, which turns out to be a nightmare, since all of Al’s family now hate the sight of her, blaming her for his unexpected expiration. She can’t blame them, she blames herself.

In the aftermath, she spends a month just moping around the empty house, packing up his stuff, and then finally just dropping it all off at the Goodwill. Because she can’t face seeing his parents and family again.

She begins walking again after a month. It’s hard for her to believe it, but it has been two months since Al had died. She’s paralyzed. She hasn’t started her new life. In fact, she’s hardly living any kind of life at all.

As she gazes at the sunlit tree, she has an epiphany. It’s a new day. It’s an opportunity to start over, and not just today. That every day offers an opportunity to begin anew. She drives home and throws her purse on the floor next to the front door.

Walks over to the phone and calls a realtor, her lawyer, and one of the few friends she has left, and tells them her plans. She packs a bag with enough clothes for a week and walks out the door, and gets into the car.

Forty-five minutes later she arrives at the Philadelphia International Airport. She asks the American Airlines representative for the first-class ticket to Los Angelus, California, and six hours later they touch down at LAX. 

She rents a sports car and drives to the beach in Santa Barbara. She tosses her shoes onto the back seat and walks to the beach and gazes out at the Pacific Ocean.

She’s startled when a flock of seagulls, lands on the railing in front of the sand dunes. There are eleven of them, she takes this as a sign, that she too can continue with her journey in life, finding adventures without her mate.

Jessica’s still sad that Al doesn’t have the opportunity to do the same thing. But she no longer feels the need to blame herself for something that would have happened whether she had asked for a divorce, or not. Her life will go on.