A Series of Serials (Jewel and Diane)

Coming up next is the seventh part to Diane Richardson’s “When I Met My Hubby.” But first, even more older buds writing serials.

Older bud Diane started a trend! A few more older buds started writing serials too. Older bud Ken even said that writing serials encourages him to come back each week to write even more. We can’t wait to share all of these stories with you, and we already have our volunteers typing them up. In the meantime, here's the first part of a two-parter written by older bud Jewel:

Jewel Grace

11.02.2021

Cape May – Day 1

So, I don’t exactly know what I am supposed to be doing here. I’m in my room just trying to rehydrate myself after drinking a cup of very strong hot coffee after lunch. I had coconut shrimp wraps for lunch, and they were too good to be true, plus come clam chowder, also to die for. My waitress was charming and was charmed by my words. She took off to tell the chef.
Back in my room; I guess I will watch some TV. I’m tired, it was a long bus trip here. So, I am feeling pretty awful, also because I didn’t kiss the feet of the people who run this place and just asked up front if I had a question. But they all looked at me like I’m a little weird, like I don’t really belong here. And by the way what is here anyway except for an expensive old-style bed and breakfast stay in Cape May that an old friend used to stay at and now I’m afraid that they’ll never invite me again here because I have done something awful just by being myself and being awkward and they aren’t very nice.
They aren’t making me feel at home at all, so quite honestly, I don’t know that I would ever want to be here again. Later I ate crab cakes for dinner, the smell of which turned my stomach. But I ate them anyway because they cost a lot of money and I never thought to say “The smell of these makes me sick, could I order something else” which is what I would like to have done. The cool thing was that I didn’t eat all the mac and cheese and I didn’t get dessert which was huge!
Now I don’t know what to do with my life next.
Higher power, help me. Do I need to kiss your feet?
To be continued with Cape May – Day 2

We now return to our continuing story, "When I Met My Husband" by Diane Richardson Part 7:

Diane Richardson 

03.29.2022

When I Met My Hubby Part 7

So at this time I was on assignment as a medical technician at the Family Court at 34 S. 11th Street collecting specimens for paternity tests from women and children on public assistance or welfare. Then the males who may or may not be in the same state, named to be the father or fathers. But that’s another story for another time and you’ll be surprised.
So, Valentine’s Day was approaching, and I wanted to plan a little dinner for Joe and I but I didn’t know if he even knew what Valentine’s Day was, so I asked him and he answered yes, “I’m supposed to buy you flowers and chocolates.” I said no, that’s not for me. Flowers are only going to die, and I don’t eat chocolates. He said good, you saved me a lot of time.
So, on Valentine’s Day he came to my job with a giant teddy bear almost as big as me and a cute little diamond ring. I was so surprised. I asked him if he would take these gifts back with him as it was too much to carry on the bus. He said, “I’ll be here to take you home when you get off.” I asked, “Don’t you have to work this evening?” He answered, “I do.” I said, “I prepared a little Valentine’s something for you to enjoy before you go to work. A nice dinner, whipped cream and strawberries for desert and all your favorites.” Needless to say, he didn’t make it to work that evening. Good thing he was the Boss!
To Be Continued

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you or the older buds have stories told in multiple parts, then you or they can submit stories through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all.

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Flights of Fancy (Cynthia & Diane)

Coming up next is the sixth part to Diane Richardson's "When I Met My Hubby." But first, another travel story!

I have more trips lined up in the future, so I've got airplanes on my mind. It's weird to think that I'm feeling comfortable enough to go back on airplanes again; especially given how inconvenient flights have been lately. By an odd coincidence, both our stories involve airplanes. The first is a eulogy by older bud Cynthia for her late brother:

Cynthia Morihara

10.22.2020

Letter to a Friend

It is true that my brother made a hefty income as an emergency room doctor, but he used a lot of money to buy planes and run a small airpark. He flew himself to all his hospitals. He also hired many people as he was always starting up businesses and projects, most of which failed in some way or another. Although he was a good doctor, he was not lucky in business. He had many friends, as witnessed by the big turnout at his funeral. People came from all over the country, and I saw three of his best friends cry. I loved my brother, but he didn’t have good sense. He overworked, and he didn’t get enough sleep. Once, being so tired he forgot to put his landing gear down. He ruined his plane. It was unfortunate that he got himself into debt over his head. It was unfortunate that he died so young. I also lost a son, and that was and is painful for me.

 

We now return to our continuing story, "When I Met My Husband" by Diane Richardson:

Diane Richardson

03.22.2022

When I Met My Husband Part 6

So, I continued going to the casino every Saturday with Pearlie Mae and having a good time loading up. I was telling my daughters about my trips and my youngest daughter Tia asked if she could meet us there as she lives in Voorhees not far from the casino. I told her where to meet us and told her we’d be in a red van. When she arrived, she said to me “I hate to tell you that’s not a van. It’s a candy apple red Cadillac Escalade.” I said, “Well, do tell.” Tia is a flight attendant for American Airlines and sometimes work for private companies for entertainers. She could write a book about it. Myself, Joe and her siblings can fly for free. Tara and Tia would fly once a month to a different island. I would fly on some weekends to Vegas then New York then home. Traveling to those islands was too much for me. I did it a couple of times to Aruba and Cancun. I mostly stayed in my room. They would get ready to go out at eleven and I would get ready for bed. I can’t hang with them. So, Tia and Pearlie Mae began to get tight as Tia loves to gamble also. Tia put Pearlie Mae on her buddy plan where she could fly for free. She only had to pay the taxes. They would fly to all the casinos and gamble till their hearts were content. They lost a lot, and they won a lot. My other daughter Tara is a Harvard graduate and holds a master’s degree in nursing. She’s like me, a book worm with no desire to gamble. I get no pleasure in losing my money. I’d rather give it away to those in need, than lose it to gambling. I donate money to a few organizations. I get pleasure doing that.
To Be Continued...

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you or the older buds have gone abroad, then you or they can submit stories through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all.

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Bon Voyage (Ann and Diane)

Coming up next is the fifth part to Diane Richardson's "When I Met My Hubby." But first, an update!

Sorry for the radio silence for the past few weeks, but after two years or being grounded, I finally got to travel again! To France, no less! I had a great time, but even more fun was how interested all the older buds were in my adventures, and hearing about their own adventures in turn. So for the next few weeks, I'll be posting stories of our older buds' own travels, along with some traveling from our very own Diane.

Ann von Dehsen

03.22.2022

Parlez-Vous Français?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my 1996 trip to London & Paris with my sister Ellen and art students and faculty from her college. This is part 2. After leaving London where I learned the correct pronunciation of Bath, not bath, we arrived at our very small hotel in Paris.
During the trip to Paris, it was discovered that I was the only one in our small group who spoke barely passable French and I do mean barely. At check-in the French speaking rather stout, older, cigar smoking man at the desk, who didn’t seem to know how to smile, threw us out keys as my fellow travelers began making requests in my ear… “Ask him how far away is the Eiffel Tower? How do we get there? Are there any good but inexpensive restaurants nearby?” And many more.
So, I took a big gulp and got through the first few questions which were answered bluntly with an arrogant “oui,” “non,” or “peut-être” I guess my annoyance with him was evident because as I slowly began the next question, he signaled me to come behind the desk. “Oh no” I thought, “is there a punishment for using poor French with an attitude?”
But as he brought me over to his desk in the back corner, he actually cracked a smile as he said, “My name is Joe and I’m an ex-pat from Brooklyn. I hate it when Americas come in here an assume I speak English as they ramble on and on. This ain’t the Ritz Carlton”. I give your French a “C”, but you made a sincere understandable attempt and now I will help you out.” With that he pulled various maps and restaurant menus in both French and English from his desk drawer and handed them to me. “Merci beaucoup Monsieur,” I said. “No problem, call me Joe and go fall in love with Paris” was his response. And do so we did! 

We now return to our continuing story, "When I Met My Husband" by Diane Richardson:

Diane Richardson

03.15.2022

When I met my Husband part 5

So, I continued going to the Casino with Pearlie Mae every Saturday. She would book a suite for me to use while her and her sisters would gamble. I would relax, order movies and room service and then hit all the takeout restaurants to take home all that I could carry. Joe would sometimes come, and we would stay for a couple of days. I couldn’t get him to go to any shows though Pearlie Mae would get me however amount of tickets for the shows that I wanted. We even utilized the time service to ride to different casinos to see different shows at different casinos. Pearlie Mae was truly a high roller.
One day Joe told me he had to have an annual physical for his job I asked if he had a primary physician, he said no. I told him, I had two friends that were physicians that had a practice not far from where I lived. He asked me to make him an appointment. We went to the appointment, and I introduced him to my friends. Dr’s Quintianni and DeSalvo they were two young Italian guys. The doctor ordered an EKG and bloodwork. I told the Drs. I would do his EKG ad bloodwork. I did, and all went well. After the appointment, we went to Red Lobster for lunch. That was the place to go back then. Now it’s Ruth Chris. My favorite restaurant. He informed me he had an appointment to get his taxes done, and if I needed mine done. I told him I needed mine done and he made an appointment for me, to be done same day as his. We had them done and went out to dinner at his favorite diner on Baltimore Pike. After that day we went there often. The food was really good, and they gave you large portions. So, I started inviting him over on a regular basis. I was really feeling him and would cook all his favorite dishes. I love to cook, and he would appreciate the home cooked meals, as all he really did was work. He was an automotive engineer, and his job was his life. He worked the evening and night shifts. I would often take him lunch or dinner to his job and wait for him in his office until he got off. And he would take me to work in the morning.
To Be Continued

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you or the older buds have gone abroad, then you or they can submit stories through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all.

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Health and Safety (Gloria and Diane)

Coming up next is the fourth part to Diane Richardson's story "When I Met My Hubby." But first, a message about health and safety.

The good news is that when it comes to COVID, the deaths, hospitalizations and new cases are fairly low right now. Low enough for businesses, restaurants, venues and other public places to relax their safety restrictions. The bad news is that the nororvirus/stomach virus is spreading due to those relaxed guidelines. This spread resulted in me hosting Best Day from home this Tuesday out of safety, and it has me thinking of health related stories in general. I personally am always interested in hospital stories, not for the medical details, but because the reasons why people end up in hospitals (surgeries, pregnancies, fevers, broken leg) and how their hospital stays were can tell you a lot about a person. For instance, here's older bud Gloria's gallbladder story

Gloria Nhambiu

05.24.2022

My All-Day Surgery

On August 28, 1997, my friend Aliyya and I had lunch at the Jamaican Jerk Hut on South Street near 15th Street. The food is wonderfully spicy. My friend and I would often splurge on lunches. As a working mother of four I had few splurges until there were out of the house. But my lunches on pay days was one of them. After eating that spicy meal, I felt really bad for the rest of the day and all night.
On Friday 8/29 I went to work and survived the day. After I got home, I told my husband that I had to go to the hospital. St. Agnes at Broad and McKean Streets was the closest (only 5 blocks from my home.) I thought this was a small problem. They would give me a prescription and I would be right back home. I was seen by a person in the Emergency Room and then Dr. James Tayoun. He said I would be admitted for a few days before my gall bladder surgery. He said he “did not operate on them while they were hot.”
I felt like a prisoner. I had expected a prescription and a few days rest at home. I was admitted and placed on a liquid diet. I was visited by my doctor and his students (there must have been six of them) every day. My fever came down and I felt better. On the night before my surgery, I asked a nurse for permission to take a bath. I lounged in the tub for what seemed like a half hour before the nurse came to get me out.
My surgery was scheduled for the morning of September 3, 1997. One of the student doctors came in and asked for permission to witness my surgery. I said yes. A short time later a young man came and asked the same thing. I said yes. And then after maybe six “visitors” my doctor came to say his students had asked to observe. I asked, “will you be there?” He answered, “I never leave the OR during surgery.” I said, “I don’t care who watches, I’ll be asleep.”
Surgery went well, after 6 hours on the table. My doctor did keyhole surgery. He said he didn’t open me up because he had said he would not (my request since I didn’t want a scar). I should have been opened up, but the students learned a lot. My sister Joan and my niece Eileen were really pissed. They had spent the whole day worrying because of the time it took.

We now return to our continuing story, "When I Met My Hubby" by Diane Richardson:

Diane Richardson 

03.08.2022

When I Met My Hubby Part 4

So, our first date at the cabaret went well. I enjoyed being able to teach his co-worker how to dance. We had a great time. Shortly after the Cabaret he invited me to his aunt’s surprise party (his mother’s sister). I accepted and attended; it was a very nice affair.
I met a lot of his family members including his mother. His mother said I must be very special to him for him to bring me to a family affair. I said I’d like to think so. We conversed and got to know each other a little. She told me her and two of her sisters went to A.C. twice a week to gamble, and would I like to come along some time. I explained to her that I don’t gamble, she said no problem. Just come along and enjoy my comps. She said free suites, free room service, free shows, free everything. She was indeed a high roller.
So, she picked me up the next Saturday with two of her sisters who were also high rollers. She has a nice new van, and we had a nice comfortable ride to A.C. We arrived at the Casino Valet Parking where the valet attendants rushed over to her car saying, “Good Afternoon, Pearlie Mae. How are you today, Pearlie Mae?” Then the doorman says the same.
She goes to the check in counter and the same thing. “How may I help you today, Pearlie Mae?” She says, “I’ll have a suite for my daughter in law.” She says, “Of course Pearlie Mae, how long will her stay be?” She says, “Indefinitely an also tickets to any shows.” So, she gives me the key to the suite along with the coupons and vouchers to everything. “Would you like me to make reservations for you next week?” She looked at me, I said “Not at this time.” So, Pearlie Mae went off to gamble and I went to my suite.
I ordered everything from room service then went to a couple of restaurants to order a bunch of take out when it was time to leave I had so many bags to take home it was a good thing she had a van. I had cakes, pies, seafood platters, surf and turf, lobster, shrimp, scallops, bottled champagne, bottled cognac, everything. After that day Joe and I would go to the casino often to enjoy the perks. He didn’t gamble either.
Pearlie would pick me up every Saturday and take me with her and her sisters. I started bringing large shopping bags with me for all my stuff. She would say “It’s free so you might as well get it.” I’m so glad I met her.
To Be Continued…

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you or the older buds have hospital or health stories, then you or they can submit stories through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all.

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Pride Month (Eleanor and Diane)

Coming up next is the third part to Diane Richardson's story "When I Met My Hubby." But first, it's LGBTQ Pride month, a celebration of the lesbian, gay, bi, trans and queer people in our lives. Pride isn't just about being LGBTQ, it's about the love you have for yourself as an LGBTQ person, and the love you have for your LGBTQ friends and family. We're still fighting hate and prejudice, but we've come far and we're seeing more and more LGBTQ people in the media, and out of the closets. Today's story is by older bud Eleanor and how proud she is of her granddaughter:

Eleanor Kazdan

09.17.2020

My Princess

Sometimes life throws a curveball. Gary and I could never have predicted what life has thrown at us out of left field. It was a gradual awakening that has now fully blossomed. We have been blessed with three extraordinary grandchildren, all born with male parts. I called them my three rowdy grandsons.
From the age of 18-months, the youngest, LuAyin, showed a passionate interest in all things girly: Beautiful scarves, dresses, jewelry, makeup, and all things sparkly. As soon as LuAyin could talk, he declared that his favorite colors were pink and purple. For his birthday he wanted Barbie dolls with fancy clothing and princess costumes. To no avail, we tried to steer LuAyin towards the boy’s section at target. He stood as stiff as a board in the middle of black T-shirts with pictures of cars and superheroes, lips pursed in a pouty frown. Next door in the girl’s section, he came to life, transformed by the sparkly dresses and fairy headbands. Movies with superheroes were out. He declared that only movies with beautiful princesses were acceptable.
When LuAyin was three years-old, we were chatting one day about his growing up, and as I said “becoming a man.” He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Grandma, when I grow up, I’m going to be a woman.” It was as clear as day, right in front of our eyes that LuAyin was a girl, but this reality was too daunting. We continued to use the pronoun “he.” LuAyin’s parents insisted that he wear his dresses and princess costumes only in the house, presenting himself as a boy to the outside world. An adult neighbor snatched his doll from him one day, refusing to give it back. “You can’t play with dolls, you’re a boy!”
About a year ago, with the reality sinking in, LuAyin was allowed to wear dresses and other girl’s clothing out in the world. She turned four in June and has definitively declared that she is a girl and wants to be referred to as such. It is astounding to us that such a young child can be so self-aware. We are trying to remember to use feminine pronouns. She has, at such a young age, fully transitioned to be who she truly is.
I always wanted a granddaughter, but I didn’t think it would happen this way. Life has sure thrown us a curveball, and it will be a challenging journey. But life has brought us a beautiful granddaughter; we couldn’t be more proud and happy.

We now return to our continuing story "When I Met My Hubby" by Diane Richardson:

Diane Richardson

03.01.2022

When I Met My Husband Part 3

Shortly after Joe and I had our first lunch together he invited me to a Cabaret one of his co-workers were giving. A cabaret for those who don’t know is a large affair, a gathering of people dressed up where there is music, eating, drinking, and dancing. It takes place in very large room. There are tables set up such as these in the Philadelphia Senior Center are and a dance floor in the middle.
So, at the affair everyone was drinking, dancing, and having a good time. Joe wasn’t much of a dancer, only danced slow and I had to force him to do that. So, I danced with others, I love to dance. There was one single white guy at our table. I noticed he hadn’t danced. I asked him, “Why aren’t you dancing?” He replied, “I don’t know how.” I said, “Come on, I’ll teach you.” He said, “I can’t in front of all these people.” I said O.K. let’s go over there to the side.
We went over to the side, and I taught him a few moves. He got pretty good and was ready to hit the dance floor. We danced a good while and he was so proud of himself. He started asking other women to dance with him. At the end of the evening, he thanked me and said, “That’s the most fun I’ve ever had. I really appreciate what you’ve done. I’ve always wanted to learn to dance. I hope I’ll see you again.”
I said “Don’t ya’ll have affairs once a month?” He said “We do but Joe never brings the same woman twice.” I said, “I bet you won’t see him with anyone but me from now on.” He said excitedly “BET?” I said “BET!!!”
To Be Continued

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you or the older buds have incredible stories for Pride Month, then you or they can submit stories through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all.

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Arts and Leisure (José and Diane)

Coming up next is the second part to Diane Richardson's story "When I Met My Hubby." But first, an update on José's art show. 

I had a great time at the show, and I loved seeing José's artwork on display. The best part was listening to José give the backstory to his illustration, and seeing how much his friends appreciated his work. I don't have the backstory to his shoe painting now, but I do have a story of him appreciating a friend's creativity back in school:

José Dominguez

04.21.2021

To Cheat During an Exam: a curiosidad mató al gato addendum

Each teacher has a different idea about educational evaluation; for example, many years ago I asked to my dear Philosophy professor Federico Ferro Gay his opinion about cheating during written examinations. After several seconds of spontaneous laugh he told me: “In my case, in the courses that I teach, the student is the total responsible of his learning process. The general idea of the philosophical studies is to inspire student to have an encounter with themselves. If we all are ignorants as Socrates asserted, who is the person to judge who knows and who doesn’t. But this essay is not to write about to copy or not during written exams. I’m writing about what happened one Spring morning of 1959 during a monthly test when I was studying my third year of Secondary education at the Instituto Regional de Chihuahua under the supervision of our teacher Mr. Medina. My group was identified as 3A and our classroom was located in the main floor just in front of the subdirector’s office. Crossing the room at the end was located the black board; to both sides our chairs were symmetrically distributed in rows. Entering to our class room my chair was to the left and near to me was seated my buddy Federico Garcia Terrasaz. He was a real pal and very often we shared our playtime together. Our teacher, Mr. Medina in those times was a celebrity in our school. Of all the Jesuit teachers no one surpassed him in severity. With him there was no middle grounds; so, it was impossible to act with him with imprecision. Added to that, he was always in a state of alert. That morning Mr. medina was in charge of the application of the test. The alternatives were scarce, the only possible thing was to answerer with how little or how much one knew. After delivering the questionaries he assumed his vigilant posture as always, scrutinizing with his eagle sight each corner of the classroom and each movement of our adolescent existences. Suddenly I was astonished to see Federico, who cold-blooded opened his left hand and began to read something he had written on his palm. I never had imagined Federico copying in one test, but now looking at him I was amassed how with out dismay was cheating in front of the wrong teacher. I guess I began to tremble feeling that a thunder storm was going to start, and it did. Abruptly in front of him Mr. medina appeared and sharply asked Federico: ”Show what you have written in your palm!” Not losing control, Federico answered calmly:” “It’s nothing related to this class”, “I will determine that,” said the teacher and at the same time he took Federico’s arm to read the text. Mr. Medina’s face become transformed by rage and boldly commanded: “Go out and find me later to speak to you” I was really intrigued about everything… how come my friend being a good student was cheating… and how come Mr. Medina did not disclosed Federico fault… Once I finished my test went directly looking for Federico and when I found him he told me: “Oh, that professor does not have any sense of humor.” I asked: “ What happen Federico show me your hand” There in his palm was written the Mexican saying “La curiosidad mató al gato” equivalent in English: “ Curiosity killed the cat”; so Mr. Medina did find funny to be call “cat” or either that curiosity killed him.
Conclusion: Too much solemnity can be uncreative and, remember, curiosity doesn’t kill creative people but to some other people is a deadly dangerous.

We now return to our continuing story "When I Met My Hubby" by Diane Richardson

Diane Richardson

02.22.2022

When I Met My Husband Part 2

So, after meeting him and giving him my number, he finally called. So you can get a mental picture of him, he is 6 foot 2, two hundred fifty pounds and sort of chocolate. No pretty boys for me. We talked on the phone a few times. Getting to know him I found out he worked most all the time. Didn’t smoke, or drink, didn’t do drugs or hang out. His hobby was going to the Supermarket and buying whatever was on sale and give it away. Much as I do now but with online shopping.
His Aunt Lorene lived directly across the street from me. Her and Joe’s mother Pearl housed and took care of mentally handicapped adults. They would cook them three meals a day and take very good care of them. They loved it there. Joe would drop the food off to them that he would purchase after work. When I told him where I lived, he told me about his aunt across the street. So, I said, “The next time you drop off the food to your aunt, come have lunch with me.” That next week we had a date for lunch.
I had a three room third floor apartment. It was small, nice, and clean and just right for me. He came for lunch, and we had a nice time. I liked how shy he was. I love shy guys. He said he had to go to work and would call me soon. He mostly worked the evening shift. When he would get off work, he would to the Pathmark to shop for whatever was on sale to give away to his family members.
He had a co-worked that his car broke down and wouldn’t be repaired for a few days. Joe offered to pick him up and drive him home until his car was repaired. So, on this first day on the way home from work Joe stopped at Pathmark. The co-worker complained, “When I work all day, I’m tired and want to get home and don’t want to be going shopping.” Joe said “I’m sorry” and drove him back to the job where he waited to catch his buses at 1AM.
To Be Continued...

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Curated by Caitlin Cieri