Seventy

  Did I ever expect to live to 70. Nope.  The main reason is because not many in my family made it to 70.

Mom-59

Dad-68

Grandpa Joe- 74

Grandma Maude- 60

Sister Peggy-67

Sister Barbara-58

Aunt Mae- 73

The longest lived relative, that I know off is......Aunt Rita - 82! 

There might be others, but this is what I have so far.

 So the odds of not making it out of my sixties seemed pretty good. I am older than my parents and my older sisters. 

How do I feel about turning 70. I feel, surprised, that's about it. 

I am still here for a reason.  I guess I still have lessons to learn or something to give. 

This was taken  67 years ago in the Bronx. I think it was taken in my Aunt Mae's apartment because even today, that linoleum looks familiar but it is not from our apartment. 

She doesn't know all the heartbreak and all the happiness that is in her future.

But whatever is thrown at her in this lifetime, she will stay strong even if she feels defeated. 

When she feels like giving up, she won't. When she feels lost she finds hope.  She will bend with the wind. 

She'll know she is the only one that can change her life.

She learned all that from the strong women in her family. 

They are amazing.

My Best Friend

When my daughter started school, I stood with all the other women who's children were in the same class. These women were all neighbors, living within a few blocks radius. 
Amy was in the group, I thought she must be stuck up because she is beautiful!  She had short black hair and everything was perfect, make-up, nails, clothes. But she seemed like a normal person. 
I guess we started to gravitate towards each other for some reason. She invited me over for coffee after dropping off the kids. I drank tea.

We were complete opposites.  She took hours to get ready with the hair, make-up, clothes, mainly hair. I did not. She liked Kenny G and romantic music. I liked Rock. She liked romance Novels, I liked Stephen King. She loved to drive. I did not.
In spite of our differences we some how became good friends. She had a good heart and a good sense of humor. She knew she was beautiful, but she did not let it go to her head, it was just a fact of life.

Here she is. She kept her hair long, soon after her short black phase was over,  most of her life. 

I could not believe the reaction she got the first time we walked up town. Guys were beeping horns, whistling, waving, calling out, she just  ignored everything and kept on talking like nothing was happening.

The second time I went with her and the reactions were the same, I said to her, do you see what these guys are doing??  She said, yeah, they're jerks...and that was that. She rarely acknowledged them unless they made her laugh.

I was in the car with her when we were the second inline to get gas.  We pull up and she says $10 please.  When she goes to give the guy the money he said, the man in the car that was in front of you paid for your gas. WOW.

Another time I went with her to the Sears store in Flushing because she needed vacuum cleaner bags.  The store was packed because they were having some kind of a sale. Oh great we will probably be here about an hour.   Nope.

Two sales guys spotted her as soon as we walk in the door.  Do you need help they both say. No she says I just need vacuum cleaner bags. Both of them guide her to the bags, they take what she needs, they guide her to a CLOSED register (all the open registers have LONG lines) ring up her order, bag them and wish her a good day. Took maybe 3 minutes. I looked back as we were leaving, I saw people running to that register but the sales guy shook his head no and closed it back up.

That is one of my favorite memories of her, we had such a laugh about that.

There were many highs and many lows in life.  

We could tell each other anything. We loved to go out dancing.  Amy would  get many free drinks and sometimes if we were lucky, we would too. LOL

We also had a few free breakfasts at diners afterwards, thanks to Amy. 

Later, for the most part,  we kept in touch by phone when I moved out of New York.

We had some laughs and I told her,  I think of her a lot and I always picture us on the dance floor at a club.

We always ended the conversations with, love you...

On April 13th  the Covid Virus made her a spirit in the sky. 

I was so lucky to have this wild woman in my life.

She was incredible. 

Losing my religion Part 2

So,  I stopped believing in the Catholic Religion.  I do think there was a Jesus. And I do believe in God/Higher Power/Source.  What do I believe? 

I started out believing in this :

With the Big Bang, The Power/God  Sent out sparks of light that were us.

We watched as the great Creator...Created.  We wanted to Create too.   Planet Earth was beautiful.  We lowered ourselves to feel what is was like to feel water, to Be water!  A tree, an animal.  To breathe.  How food tasted etc.  We were still light beings and we would zip in and out for eons. 

But then some got stuck and forgot where they really belonged. That they were a spark of the Creator.
 Light beings came down to help them get unstuck. But some of them got stuck too. 
Many were now trapped on Earth and returning to earth because they thought this is home, when it is not home. 

And that is how it all started. 

It is not exactly what I believe now.  I am not sure what I believe which is why I watch a lot of video's and listen to a lot of people who channel or are psychic. 

We are all here for a reason. When we die we just shed our earth body.  

I believe I have been incarnated many, many times here and other planets. I believe there are other beings all around the universe including here on earth.   I believe we (and EVERYTHING) are vibration and we can raise and lower what we see and feel.

So, I think that's enough for now.

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.