Sunday, January 9, 2011


Today I spent hopping from home to home, visiting and lending a hand where I could. Practicing the doing. Now I am home with my daughter and her son, they are working on a report for his school work. What a joy to see them working together, problem solving, researching, studying, accomplishing their goal.  I watched this earlier today at my older daughter's home, in between feeding babies and changing diapers she was helping her daughter with a report. Yesterday, I witnessed my son giving his son the what for; for not completing his homework.  It was enlightening for me, not that I never helped my own children, I tried to be involved; what I realized was no one had ever sat down with me and actually knew what I was supposed to be doing. Spelling came easy for me and I do remember mom giving me my spelling words as she knitted away, dad was to frustrated with me to help me with math. Spelling the one thing I COULD do was the one I got help with. The irony of it all.
Everyone has a story and I'm sure you don't need to hear mine, to bad I need to share it.
Not to sit on a pity pot, but to clarify things for myself. I received little or no training in money management, except to be told I didn't deserve to have my fathers wages spent on me. No new coat for you, get a job. So I 10.
Continuing his theory I was never to be given school supplies, I was to buy them with my own wages; as well as;  my clothing and any personal items I needed including Kotex. Extras provided by his money were out of the question I did not deserve them. Until I was 16 anyway, just before I moved out, I told him that he could support me as long as I was a tax deduction for him. That worked for a couple months ,then I became pregnant, the war that started will be saved for another time.
All of this to help myself to understand why I hate money, see daddy had money, saved money, spent wisely, was a downright penny pincher. He was a fairly affluent man by the time he died. He died early 59, my mom has since spent all the money in trying to live and in helping her 2 daughters. What was it all for, the stress, the worry, the anger over a miss spent dime. I don't think I will ever understand that. All I remember is that I didn't deserve to be cared for; it took me years and years to rid myself of  the feeling that caused me.
I find myself slipping into it from time to time, the worthlessness. I know better. What I haven't been able to change in myself is that if I have money I do everything I can to be rid of it. Sounds odd I know, but it is what I do. I am 53 years old and don't have a dime to my name and own very little, I have worked all my life. I in a sense, give it away, bank charges and such. I can't balance a check book for the life of me. To bad daddy couldn't help me with math. No I am not blaming him. I am a big girl it is my responsibility, I just don't know how to stop this downward spiral I keep finding myself in. Be it noted that my sister has the same issue.
I will fix this about me, get my priority's straight. I find great joy in throwing money away, even in a literal sense, if I were to somehow acquire a large sum of money from somewhere, my dream is to fly over a destitute area and throw it out the window. That would be the best high I ever had.

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