Losing my religion Part 1

I am Catholic. My parents went to Catholic elementary school. I went to Catholic school along with my sisters. But we all went to a public high school.

When I was very young, I wanted to be a nun. I had no special calling for this. I thought it might be the only way to get into heaven.  Also, going to a Catholic school they have all that time to try and brainwashing you into it. 

St.Fidelis Church. The School was across the street.

A catholic knows even thinking of something, like killing someone is a mortal sin and you are going straight to hell. Missing mass was a mortal sin.  Yes, you can confess to a priest but seriously, you would have to confess every few minutes  with all your mortal sin thoughts.
Yep, no chance.

My parents did not force us to go to church. But we had to attend with our school class, which took attendance. I did not like church. I still did not go every Sunday. On Monday if the nun called on me and asked why I was not there,  I said I was at my families vacation house up state or somewhere. 

I thought church was boring and if Jesus saw what his church was doing now, he would not be happy.
People were hypocrites. They were cursing  on  their way out of church.  I have bad knees from all the kneeling we had to do.

I could not believe that if a baby only lived a few hours...that would be its only time on earth. I didn't understand how God could allow all this suffering.   Just from not going into a building on Sunday I could spend the rest of my life in hell if I died before confessing. 

I could pray a lot to get someone out of Purgatory.  A priest told us if your parents don't make you go to church, they are committing a mortal sin and will go to hell.  I stayed awake many a night begging God not to blame my parents because I don't go to church every Sunday.

My sister Barbara was the only one who did like to go to church on occasion. She would always go to church on Holy Days, Christmas Eve Night Mass, Easter, Palm Sunday etc.

I suppose when I was around 12-13 I started reading stories about reincarnation. I thought these people were crazy, they were doing this to get their story in the paper.  (these stories would be in The Star or National Inquirer, not a normal newspaper)  But some of them didn't want their real name mentioned. They didn't want their faces shown. .... It made me think and read more stories about this. The Catholic church did not believe in Reincarnation. 

 I must say though, sometimes on my way home from work at St.Agnes, I would stop in church just to sit in the back and think before heading home. I found it very soothing. 

I started reading books...and that continued for many years.....

Meeting Dave-2

 So, eventually I decided to give it one more try. I think I wrote to 5 people this time, I won't try again.

One of the people was a man from Birmingham U.K.,  who said he loved all things American.  I wrote him and said I love all things British.   He wrote back. 

He told me later, I was the last person he was going to write  because he had over 80 responses!  He felt terrible because people (all women I think) wanted to write to him but he could not keep up with all the emails. He started apologizing and sending out emails that he was so sorry but he could not write to them.

We had a good time writing back and forth, Dave was very witty and told wonderful stories.  Eventually he told me about all the other women he was writing and shared some of their stories with me. 

At some point he told me about a woman in Texas he was going to visit in a few months.  She was wealthy, had a good job, a married son.  He talked with the son online and everything was set.  

At some point Dave told her who he talks to online  and  she wanted him to stop.  He told her, I was a friend and he would not.  She stopped talking to him and blocked him.  I think he was a little shocked by how suddenly she dropped him.  But he told me, I think if I did go, she would not have let me leave. I laughed, but he was serious. He said money is a very attractive influence and that played a big part in meeting her. 

It was the following year we decided to meet. I told him my friends thought I was  crazy he could be a murderer! He said, well, his friends were worried too. I said, what are they saying?  He said, Ada said, remember Dave, she is an American. She will want to hug you when you meet. 

I think I laughed for a full 20 minutes. LOL

That's how we met. He came to New York. I went to England. He came to Gulfport.... Our next vacation was to Graceland and the Heartbreak Hotel in Tn. Then to Civil War battlefields in Jackson. Then back to our favorite Hotel on the Florida Panhandle and a week with family. 

But a month before the Vacation he died and all our plans died with him. 

His friends sent me a copy of his service and lovely notes. Even his boss, who was Knighted by the Queen, sent me a letter if there is anything he can do. 

So that's the story of my Dave.....

Internet penpals- Meeting Dave Part 1

When I got a computer back in the '90s  one of the first things I did, was to go to AOL pen pals.  I had penpals growing up and still had my first penpal, Cheryl,  so I thought it would be fun having a penpal on line. 

I wrote to men and women because I wanted to met people from all over. I wanted friends not romance.

I wrote to women who said, they would love to hear from men or women. I wrote to alot of them and NOT ONE woman wrote back.  Which made me believe they were  just looking for men.

Some men did write back.  Most in England, because that's where my interest was.

One older gentleman was a ghost hunter and told me amazing stories.  But the sad things was, he was not the least bit interested in me. He never asked me a question.  So, eventually I stopped writing/emailing him. He probably never noticed.

One was a widower with a son who was never marrying again because he collects widower pension and was going to Washington D.C on business and wanted to meet up with me.  So, I told him no and stopped writing him.

I did write a man named Dave, who was a carpenter, married with 2 kids.  I enjoyed his emails and I don't remember why we stopped. He was a nice man who told me what he found behind walls etc. as a carpenter and about his two teen age children. 

Many people I wrote, never bothered to write back.

I discovered other interests online like, AncientSites. A website of adults who love ancient civilizations, that became almost a second home. 

I gave up trying to find a penpal  for awhile.

My first apartment

51 years ago I got married.  It was a very warm sunny day.  I wore a yellow dress, white headband, white sandals. 
I got married in St.Fidelis between weddings so the church was decorated.  
We were going to get married in...January or February (I can't remember which one but it might have been February since I turned 18 that month) but for some reason (that I can't remember why, now) we did not. So in May I was about 7 months pregnant. 
This was not uncommon in my day. They were called shotgun weddings.  We found out many years later that my sister Barbara was pregnant when she married and had a miscarriage on her honeymoon.

I did not want anyone at the wedding. I just wanted to get it over with. But my sister Peggy showed up with her kids anyway.  It was a quick ceremony with John Murphy and Maria Franceschetti as our witnesses. 

We  then stopped at my parents house and then to pops. We were going to stay at pops in Billy's room because the apartment was not ready. 
An old man lived there before us and we had to clean out the apartment  before we could paint. 
The rent was $60 a month which my father thought was an outrages amount of money.
This is the apartment house  125 street and 18th avenue.

It was a two family that was converted into a 4 family apartment house. Ours was upstairs in the back. An old couple lived in the front.  

Downstairs an old Italian man lived in the front studio apartment and in the back was Honey, Timmy and their two daughters. 

The old man was the only one with a phone in the building. He would let you use his phone for a nickel, back then it was 5 cents a minute for a phone call. 

Our apartment was 3 small rooms. You walked into the livingroom, to the right was the bathroom, then the bedroom and to the right the kitchen.

We got hand me downs for the furniture. Johnny's in laws gave us a black sofa, his friend gave us his bedroom set he had from his first marriage.  The dresser came down with us through the years and it's last stop was Mississippi.

It was a crappy little apartment,  very hot in the summer and the furnace would break down a lot in the winter. We  put the oven on  with a pot of water in the oven for heat when that happened.

I think we stayed there a little over a year before moving to Charlie Gratz's house on 127th street. 

July 25th, 1969

The Birth of my daughter. 

But, we have to start from the day before.  I was not feeling that great.  Through the latter part  of my pregnancy I was having dizzy spells. I did tell the doctor who told me that is not unusual. I felt like something was wrong but hey, I am not a doctor.

Billy said, I'm going to the bar for a few hours. I was not happy. I am never happy when he goes to the bar but he knows I am nervous being close to having a baby.  He said I'll be home by 10pm.  That rarely happened. 

But it did happen that night.   He came in and started making spaghetti because he was hungry. He tried to get me to eat, but I was not hungry, thankgoodness!  ( If you ate  soon before going into labor, they would not give you drugs.) So he ate, left a big mess in the kitchen and went to bed. 

Some information about giving birth back in the stone age.  You were completely shaved. No one else was allowed in the delivery room. 
You  were strapped down, arms and legs, like an animal. 
But you were given drugs...good drugs :D. 

I woke  at around 3ish, with some pressure pain, and I was bleeding a little. I thought this might be labor.

I woke Billy and waited, the pressure pain continued, I called the doctor. He said, this is your first one, it will be awhile, just keep track of labor pain, you have a long way to go.

So, I laid there waiting. 

I have to explain, the only information I had about water breaking was from my mother. Women would say, my water broke and soon after labor started etc. But my mother said, when her water broke it was like a dripping faucet. So that is what I expected.

About 4am I hear a loud SNAP and liquid is gushing out of me!  I think I am bleeding to death because I was bleeding lightly earlier. I can't speak because I think I must have only seconds to live with that much blood pouring out of me! 

I hit Billy, who is also wet from this avalanche of water. He goes to turn on the nightstand light and gets a little zap from it and the light blows out and he jumps out of bed and turns on the over head light.

We are both a little shell shocked. 

He is looking  down at me and I must have this look of horror on my face and I finally look at my body and sheets  and only see sticky-ish water instead of a river of blood.

We both have to get out of our wet clothes  and  I get hit with a pain that lands me on the sofa.  The pains are pretty intense, I know I bit Billys leg at one point. We timed the pains and called the doctor again who said, again, you have plenty of time blah blah. 

We had no car, so the time I went into labor decided which father would be home from work, that we would call. Billy's father was home so he was called. 

The pain is getting worse, I am starting to push!

Billy called the local ambulance. He kept dialing the number wrong so he runs out to go down there and get them, about 6 blocks away,
......leaving me alone on the sofa in labor. 

I hear Pop come in and the smile soon leaves his face. I am on the sofa in great pain and his son is nowhere around. I tell him where he went.  

 Pop said, we need to get you out of here. So between pains I run downstairs and get in the backseat of his car.  
He starts up the car just as Billy arrives with the ambulance. 
They drag me out of Pops car and put me in the ambulance. I lost my slippers at that point.

I am tested to see how dilated I am,  I hear the usual, its a first one there is plenty of time.  

We get to the hospital and I am put in a small room, with a big clock on the wall.  It is 4:50am
I am now starting to push more!

Someone comes in and wheels me to an elevator, I am pushing more, she tells me to stop. She tells me to breathe fast when I feel the urge to push. I breathe fast and push. I tell her I can't stop the pushing!

There is a man in the elevator with us and he is not happy to be there, I am pushing all over the place. 

We get to the delivery room, A nurse with very thick glasses, dry shaves me. My arms and legs are strapped down and I don't like it! 
I am telling them to unstrap me! At least my hands, unstrap my hands! But no. I tell them I want drugs!

GIVE ME DRUGS! 

I finally get them as I feel, what feels like a  bowling ball is coming out of me...I am..out.

I seem to come up from a dark place because a  nurse is slapping my face, telling me to stop it.
"stop it Rita, stop it Rita, stop it Rita"...I think I said,"what am I doing??" 
But I think, oh, now they want me awake, this is not over! I am going back to sleep till it's over. 
And I do.

Around 9am ish, I wake up, still in the delivery room. I look down and I am surprised to see a flat stomach and a nurse pressing on it. I can feel something is coming out.  

She stops and tells me I had a girl. I knew it was going to be a girl.  5 lbs 6oz. 19"long, A+blood.
 I ask if she is ok, she said she is fine.

She says something about I have an irregular heartbeat but I am ok, they were just watching it. I wonder if that is why they tried to wake me earlier. 

So I arrived at the hospital at 4:50am and Agnes was born at 5:10am. 20 minutes later. 

I am pretty sure my doctor did not arrive in time because she was being born when I passed out and he was not there. He said he was.

Some other information. 

When we got to the hospital, Billy said he wanted coffee, the ambulance guys told him, go get coffee, you  have plenty of time to wait around, its her first one. 
When he got back he was told he had a baby girl.  Most Italians want a son, but Billy was not like that, he was happy having a girl.

During labor she turned. They called it a breech block. I think, I would have had her at home if she didn't turn. 

I did not see her till the next day.  Everyone said she was beautiful, they took me in a wheelchair to finally see her! I was dizzy and had told the nurse, but I guess that was a normal thing because nothing was done about, again.

 Back then, it was a 3 day stay after you had a baby.  On the second day I fainted. Peggy and Billy were there, thankgoodness because Billy caught me.  I fainted in front of everyone in the visiting room on our floor. sigh

I had to stay an extra day because they took tests.  I was NOT happy.   I was anemic, that's why I was dizzy.
  I went in the hospital about 130 lbs and came out 105.  I must have had 15 lbs of water. I would not doubt it! 

Peggy came to take us home. She brought two outfits for me, one to wear home because none of my clothes fit, so I wore a stripped short jumper.  Agnes wore a blue dress with red and white flowers around the collar her Nana bought for her.

We stopped at Nana's house, so they could run down to the car and see her. I asked everyone, who does she look like and they all said....Billy.  Pissed me off..

So, that was the first 4 days of the life of Agnes. 

When we got home, I found out her Uncle Johnny had a fight with Joann  and was staying at our tiny apartment, on the sofa.  Just wonderful...

I like to read

 I don't know why I like to read. People think, if your parents read, you will read. That is not true because I know someone (Agnes) who LOVES to read and has read since she was a child, and NOT ONE of her children reads.  

My mother read books, mainly mystery's but also magazines and newspapers.  She liked the Perry Mason Mysteries and Agatha Christie books.

My dad would read certain books, like photography books, fish books, american indian books. He also read magazines and newspapers.  My older sisters read magazines and newspapers. My sister Barbara read books, but I don't remember Peggy read books. Me and Barbara liked the same books and loved to talk about them with each other...I miss her.

 My younger brothers did not read much of anything. My mother got the Hardy Boys books for Charlie which I don't think he read. I am not sure if I read them.

I liked the Dick and Jane books  our first reading books in first grade.   

I was very excited to get my library card! My mother took me to the library and it took me forever to decide what book to take out.  I took out, The Sun, of all things.  So I learned about the sun and I was late taking the book back and I am sure was talked to by my mother. I did not take a book out for a long time after that.

You could also buy books in Woolworths (5&10) store up the street.  A favorite book I got from there was, Eight Cousins.

I just loved that book. It is on ebay for just over $10. I might just get it one day. 

My mother also subscribed me to get 2 Nancy Drew books a month. I could NOT wait for them to arrive! I was  heartbroken when I read them all and my mother had to cancel it.

I also read magazines and newspapers.

Here I am reading, maybe The Star or Enquirer. I am pissed because I got out of the bath and I am in my pajamas and my hair is wet and my father wants to take my picture. I would not look at him. lol

sigh....I miss him.....

I liked Mystery and horror books. Then I found, Stephen King! And Peter Straub!  They were/are my favorites. I read some Sci-fi and ghost books.  True crime was a favorite too.

I like ancient civilizations and read books on those.  But Mr.King will always have a special place in my heart even if I did not care for the endings on some of his books.

I still read but much slower. I could read 2 books in a week. I would try to slow down, not read so fast but it was impossible back then. Now it could take months for me to finish a book. I am ok with that.

Many of the people I follow on YouTube tell stories about mysteries and murder.  A continuation of my reading.  

My grandchildren are not readers as I stated above. It is sad. When I read, I am not just reading the book. I am there in the room! I am watching what is going on.  In rare cases, like in the book, The Clan  of the Cave Bear, I was one of them!  They can take you away to different places. So much fun! 

So, reading has giving me, and continues to give me much joy in my life. :) 

I got lost - 1957

We moved from the Bronx to College Point, Queens in August, 1957.  We lived on 124th street, the school me and my cousin Brian were going to start was on 124th street. To get to school it was a straight walk for about a half mile.  

I was starting first grade, Brian second grade. When school started we would get a ride by my father or uncle.  At some point, we were going to be on the school bus.  And that's were the problem started.

I was excited to start the bus because at the end of the day, the school kids got to leave class earlier. I guess I never liked school.  So, the nun announces 1st bus children can leave. I looked around, was I a first bus child?  I waited. A little later, 2nd bus children leave. hmmm, I guess it's not me.  Next...the bell rang for class to end. Oh no, I don't think that's right.  I went outside and there was Brian. At the bus stop, crying. 

We missed the bus. He could not get on the bus because his mother told him he was NOT to get on the bus without ME. I made us miss the bus. We stood there for awhile,  everyone left, it is just us, so we try to go home the way  our dads drove us to school.  If we only walked straight down the blocks...but we didn't know. 

We started walking...

Around the block from our house my aunt and my mother are waiting for us to get off the school bus. It comes. We don't get off. They  talk to the school bus driver. We are not on the bus.  It was only when I became a parent that I realized  what a terrible moment that was for both of them.  They came home and called the school,  and woke their husbands (they worked nights) and called the cops.  Their only consolation was we were together.

Brian and I walked, we tried to find anything familiar.  We saw a house we thought we knew. It was a brick house with a big garden on the side and an old lady working in the garden. We ran up to her and asked her if she knew us. She  said no. We left.    Now..why didn't she ask us questions and realizing we were lost, hold us there and call the cops. That bothered me...but I think she did not understand English that well, not understanding what we were saying. 

At one point I started crying and Brian telling me it's ok, we will get home. 

So we walked...

Back at home, the cops are looking and my uncle in his car and my father in his were all searching the town for us. This was the age before THE internet and cell phones, so they would all stop at the house to see if there were updates.

In our journey, Brian spots a boy in his class. He asks the kid if he can take us to the school. He said he has to ask his mother, so we go to his house.  His mother said he could take us.  We get to the school.  The school crossing guard is there, it seems they asked her to stay in case we came back. 

She saw us, are you the lost kids? We say yes and just then, I see my father passing by in his car across the street, he sees us.  I start to run to him but the crossing guard holds me by my collar. A good thing, because I probably would have been hit by a car.

Next thing I remember me and Brian are having soup in the kitchen with our mothers standing around us and a cop walking in, very glad to see us home.

Brian and I talked about this alot. 

Years later, I would have lost dreams. I would get lost and I was always afraid of getting lost. The funny thing is, I never really associated those dreams with this event. I don't know why. lol   Anyway I have not had those dreams in years.

Here we are about  25-30 years ago.