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YahooMy father often jokes that I grew up thinking we were poor. We weren't; not even close. But my parents were extremely frugal and the typical retort if there was something I wanted was "get a job." So I did get a job, or rather, a variety of jobs, and learned the value of a dollar and grew into the fairly frugal-minded person I am today.
Part of my particular set of neuroses about money is that I value a penny saved over just about anything else. I need to have money in the bank to feel secure. And so when I got divorced I told myself that it would be okay, because there was some money in the bank and I'm very thrifty, and I would figure it out. Nevermind that I hadn't worked in years; nevermind that I had two small children for whom the cost of daycare outweighed the salary of any job I was able to find; nevermind that the child support payment came to just a few dollars more than the mortgage bill.
Slowly the money in the bank was eaten away. The worst Christmas wasn't actually the first one after the divorce, but the one after, when my bank balance was low and my morale even lower. I'd had a multitude of dead-end jobs and been fired for the first time in my life. The kids were asking for toys we couldn't afford, and I was trying to figure out if it was time to let go of my resolve to keep the house because the kids had already been through so much loss. I wondered if I would ever have enough money again.
Hell, I wondered if I would ever be happy again.
Does it sound dire? It certainly felt dire, at the time. But even as I struggled, even as I worried, I knew we had it better than many. My ex has never missed a support payment. My parents constantly asked if I needed help, and although I stubbornly maintained that I needed to manage on my own, checks sometimes showed up in the mail (I would argue, and sometimes even cry, and then cash them because I had to). I never fell behind on the bills. We were never in danger of being put out onto the street.
And while I'd love to say that we were okay due to some great skill or foresight on my part, the simple fact is that we were lucky. I was lucky that our worst Christmas still happened with a roof over our heads and food to eat and even gifts for the kids, thrifted though they may have been.
Unfortunately, in the hustle and bustle of the shoppingest time of the year, sometimes we forget that not being able to afford that fancy new computer right now isn't exactly a financial crisis.
Rachelle at That's What She Said poignantly recalls the year Santa went broke:
Mom explained to me that Christmas would be different for me this year in comparison to the previous several years.
I wasn’t at all concerned at first. “Don’t worry mom. Santa will bring us gifts. You don’t have to get us anything,” I had told her the day she broke the news to me. I wasn’t too worried about it, but a worry line creased her brow.
(Read the rest of her story to find out what Santa ended up bringing them that year.)
Southern One at Consider This and Think About That says there will be no Christmas this year:
Christmas is coming soon. We won't be having a Christmas this year. There is no money for Christmas. It's hard to justify buying gifts when you aren't even sure you can pay the rent. No money for Christmas when you have to choose between keeping the lights on and groceries. This makes me very sad.
I was already depressed over the lack of funds, but Christmas just makes it worse. I have to be honest; I am considering suicide.
(Talk about sobering. I hope this entry is a heartfelt rant and that that author is feeling better, and/or seeking some help.)
Both mjean and Haltija are young women whose parents are potentially facing foreclosure on their homes. How do you even begin to celebrate the holidays when you have that sort of worry hanging over you?
Here's my Christmas wish for each of us fortunate enough to not be in crisis this season: If you have enough, share with someone in need. I'm not going to tell you how or where or how much... just ask that you find a way to touch someone else's life for the better. 'Tis the season.
BlogHer Contributing Editor Mir also blogs about issues parental and otherwise at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, and about the joys of mindful retail therapy at Want Not.
What makes up the perfect ice cream sundae?
I worry that woman is truly suicidal...
Catherine Morgan December 9, 2009 - 8:51pmI'm troubled by the post written by Southern One. I read her whole post, and she sounds like a woman who is truly suicidal. It really sounds like this woman is calling out for help, and now, over a week after she wrote it she doesn't even have one comment. What is our responsibility as readers? What is the proper thing to do as a reader (or witness) to this type of outcry? Is it like the type of responsibility we would have if we were the first to come upon an accident scene? Is reading this type of post and not trying to help like driving by the scene of an accident and doing nothing? I'm sorry, this is just the first time I've read this type of post and I'm not even sure how to react. Does anyone here have advice?
Contributing Editor Catherine Morgan
Also at Catherine-Morgan.com