Friday, January 13, 2017

Money, roots and shoots.. (part one)


It has come to my attention over and over again, that it is one of the many issues that I have that I should look at. In this winter of my discontent (take 2), I am looking at it.  They say she is unemployed, yes, but she may reach nirvana, and isn't that going to be amazing?

Yeah, I'm being so sarcastic, it actually feels dirty.
So don't read the above.

Anyhow, money.  At its roots, it will reflect back onto my parents, and their parents... The dad who was very poor but had most-of-the-time enough and sometimes not enough... (no winter coat in Maine) , the mom who had more than enough and expected the same (but not an easy family,no.) .  And the way they worked together to grow their family and show us the uses of money.  My dad was factory management eventually and planned and saved and invested money and left my mom situated well for the rest of her life when he died suddenly at 68.  He bought us the expensive sneakers at the mall because he wasn't aware of comparison shopping and my mom made him take them back... My mom did the household budgeting but didn't pay the bills, and i mean that literally, he took that responsibility.  I remember a story she tells of making a casserole for the two of them in their early marriage which was so terrible (she didn't pour off the water from the hotdogs--- don't even. Don't even.). And my dad wouldn't throw it away because of money and they ate it.
Another one:  my mom's favorite aunt sent her 50 bucks as a gift and my dad said they had to use it for bills.

Right? There's a lot in those stories.  A care, a counting... some bullying, on both their parts I think, money as a power tool...and a thing of loss and privilege.

And the person i admire most in the world is my grandmother, my dad's mom.  She had a crap husband and six kids and managed to feed them when he left to find work in another state, she killed her own chickens, made her own butter and not out of anything but necessity.  She kept busy, filled her time with food and 'making' and was the smartest thing in a recliner when I knew her.  She laughed like a bowl full of jelly, for real, and I've wanted to talk to her and my dad so much about J and what I could ever have done about it all... and about me, where I go from here.  I think I get a lot of my self-recrimination from a failed comparison to my Grammie Bowie... not one she would ever have endorsed, by the way... its a romanticizing of depression-era living and my parallel world is full of it... and i see its flaws and carry them anyway.

These are my roots.
Get some Cindi down below...

Money Changes Everything : Cindi Lauper


Mama Mama Quite Contrary said...

Oh boy, I had no idea until I got married and had babies how much of my personality was shaped by the finances (or significant lack thereof) of my parents. I simultaneously feel immense gratitude for how much more I have as an adult and constant insecurity that some financial tragedy will befall us. I get so mad at Mark for buying things that I know I could have gotten cheaper somewhere else (Bandaids from Benny's is the latest example) but when you grow up poor, every single penny counts. I need to find a better balance because nobody wants to be married to a crazy, control freak. Sigh....