James' World 2

Click the link below the picture

.

A few years ago, my mother’s home was flooded and very badly damaged. During a cold New England weekend, a pipe burst in the attic. Water made its way through the entire house, soaking the carpets and the walls. Water found its way into the kitchen cabinets and seeped into pictures and paintings. As I  frantically rummaged through my childhood bedroom to see what I could save, I was amazed at how many things I had once carefully wrapped away. Childhood charm bracelets, my prized Benetton t-shirt, a small wooden jewelry box, a seashell necklace, two porcelain dolls, and a box of other items.

While we didn’t have a lot of money growing up, I valued whatever we received. Every gift I received was cherished like a priceless item I could never find again. Every toy, chachki, and knick knack felt like that giant blue pendant necklace tossed into the ocean in the movie Titanic because I knew my parents wouldn’t have the money to buy me another one if it was lost or broken.

My children are growing up in a different world. “Mom, this broke,” my kids will say. “I need another one ordered on Amazon.” 

As a dual career household, trying to manage traveling to a client, making sure there are string cheeses stocked in the fridge, finishing that work proposal, searching for a sports jersey for school, responding to emails from the boss, and helping with the science fair project that becomes your own—I often relent and just give up. My husband will try to give them a lecture on the value of

money (and the belongings money buys) as I race onto the next thing to do. I will quickly order whatever they have broken, lost, or need another of, as I race around looking for the right sized poster board for another school project.

As a child, I knew my parents often lived in survival mode. My dad was the primary breadwinner and worked as a mechanical engineer. My mother stayed home and was our chef, teacher, Uber driver, nurse, cleaning service, and more. She was also the bookkeeper, watching our finances carefully, cutting up dozens and dozens of coupons, paying only in cash for what we could afford, standing in line in cold weather with her best friend for hours to get the best deals on toys for Christmas. 

My Indian immigrant parents had left everyone and everything they knew behind for a life in a strange new land. They had no support system in the U.S. If they couldn’t pay their bills, there was no one to help them. They hustled, sometimes living paycheck-to-paycheck, and sacrificed a lot for my younger brother and I. There were times when my dad almost lost his job, we moved a number of times (I went to four different high schools), and we knew when finances were tight. While my parents were transparent with us about finances, and sometimes I felt anxiety over it. But it also set expectations, taught us the value of things, and established in us a strong understanding of money. 

.

Jordan Lye—Getty Images

.

.

Click the link below for the complete article:

.

__________________________________________