Money Comes, Money Goes, but it’s the emphasis we put on it that makes all the difference

Summary

The author, Jackie Madden Haugh, reflects on her financial struggles as a single mother and the perspective shift she experienced after witnessing an act of kindness, emphasizing the importance of gratitude and the transient nature of money.

Abstract

Jackie Madden Haugh recounts her journey through financial hardships following her divorce, which transformed her relationship with money. Initially, she managed her finances with ease until the responsibility of raising four children as a single mother led to unforeseen expenses. Despite the challenges, she took pride in learning to do home repairs herself, saving money in the process. A pivotal moment occurred when she observed an elderly Hispanic man unable to pay for a new bandana at a hardware store. This encounter reminded her of her relative prosperity and the necessity of maintaining perspective regarding money. Haugh concludes that while money is essential for survival, the emphasis we place on it—whether we hoard it or share it—defines our relationship with wealth. She resolves to remember this lesson during future financial anxieties.

Opinions

The author believes that money management becomes significantly more challenging with the added responsibility of raising children alone.
She expresses that self-sufficiency in home maintenance can be a source of pride and financial relief.
Haugh suggests that unexpected moments of kindness can offer profound lessons about the true value of money and the importance of gratitude.
She advocates for a balanced view of money, recognizing its necessity while also being thankful for what one has and the possibility of sharing with others.
The author acknowledges the emotional impact of financial stress but also the resilience and resourcefulness it can foster.

Money Comes, Money Goes, but it’s the emphasis we put on it that makes all the difference

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Upslash

“Crap, how do I pay all these bills this month,” I cried out loud, looking at my dwindling checkbook. A recent real estate deal I was working on wouldn’t close for another month, and my stocks had taken a horrific hit because of the mess our country, our world, was in at the moment. Since I became a single mom twenty-one years ago, money (or the lack of it) has been the bane of my existence and the source of much anxiety, causing many a sleepless night.

Before my divorce, I never worried much about finances. We were a team and it didn’t all fall on me. Before that, as a young working woman, I only had myself to be concerned with. Each pay period, I would put my income into categories — rent, utilities, food, savings, and some for fun each month. This worked perfectly until I had children. Then, all bets were off, and the dollars flowed willy nilly out the door. But once my son,the baby, was born, I decided I needed to relieve some of the pressure off their father. Being a stay-at-home mom had it’s benefits, i.e., never paying for child care for one, but it did have its drawbacks. My husband had me on a tight budget, which never seemed to work because I wanted the kids to have everything (and I do mean everything). So, I created part-time gigs while my babies were in school to help ease the financial strain.

But when we split up, the enormity of what it took to keep a house and home running smoothly nearly gave me a heart attack. I was now responsible for the mortgage, insurance (both health and home), taxes, and private education for four teenagers. This not only created panic attacks but massive weight loss. I hadn’t had a real job in over twenty-five years. Now, I was being called to full-time employment once again. Fortunately, an angel on my shoulder seemed to constantly guide me, but when the coffers got too low, it felt as if a stroke was coming on, and this day was no different. Fortunately, something would happen later to wake me up.

I’d been doing some work on my home — little odds and ends to keep my most significant investment running smoothly — jobs I learned to do myself, and not just change a lightbulb. I taught myself how to replace an entire light fixture, how to maneuver a chainsaw for the removal of dead branches on a tree, minor plumbing re-dos, and interior painting. Doing things myself brought pride, plus saved a lot of moolah.

Recently I was picking up some paint at the local Ace Hardware for my bathroom cabinet when I notice a Hispanic man of small stature in advanced years standing in line in front of me. Looking worn out from a long day of dust and grime, he wore a tattered blue bandana around his neck, most likely to protect his lungs while working. His gnarled fingers pulled out a credit card to pay for a new red bandana. As he inserted it into the device for payment, the sweet girl from behind the counter whispered in Spanish, “It didn’t go through.” Pulling out another card, he tried again. Sadly, she gave him the same response. Pushing the cloth away, he nodded and headed for the door. How my heart ached for him.

“How much is that?” I found myself asking her.

“3.50,” was her reply. In an instant, I was hit with how different our lives were. “Please call him back; I’ll pay for it.”

As he took the bandana away, he bowed his head in thanks. I, on the other hand, mentally gave thanks for all my prosperity.

While it’s true there’ve been times where I’ve had to cut back (a very painful process for I love shopping), I’ve never known what it was like not to get my bills paid. I’ve never been late on a credit card nor missed a mortgage installment. There’s always food in my kitchen, even if it’s just a can of soup, and heat in my home. Maybe there wasn’t enough money for fluff or fun, but my needs have always been met. That day, I walked away upset that I’d let fear get in the way once again, forgetting how fortunate I truly was.

It’s been said money is a source of energy — energy that provides a service. It would be cavalier to say it doesn’t matter, maybe even stupid, for it does! We need an income to live. But it’s the emphasis we put on money that matters. Do we horde it, angst over it, work to stockpile it, or do we honor and be grateful for what it can bring to our lives, maybe even share it.

While I’m sure one day I’ll find myself wallowing again when I shouldn’t spend money the way I love to— on pretty things for my home, dinners with my children, or toys for the grandchildren. But I plan remember this day in the hope I become centered quickly once again.

As I left, I watched him drive away in a beat-up Subaru, with the back fender loose and exhaust pipe hanging low. Crawling into my perfectly kept Ford Edge, I prayed, “Thank you, God, for reminding me how blessed I am! Money will come, and money will go, but You’ve allowed me always to be OK.”***

Known as the Guardian of Memories, Jackie Madden Haugh writes about her life experiences and her place in this world. Follow her on Facebook, Instagram, or sign-up for more stories on her website at www.jackiehaugh.com.