Stuck in the Middle
There are three generations in my household - and I support all of them.
by Shelley Abreu
November 17, 2008
Living with my mother and feeling responsible for her financial future often feels like an overwhelming burden. Instead of saving money for my children's education, traveling as a family, or even going out to eat, my husband and I spend our money on the hefty mortgage. We've talked about selling, but between the weakening economy and our need to house so many people, it's not a viable option for us. Not only do we fret about our children's future, but we worry about my mom's as well. With no retirement funds to live off of, her financial future is in our hands.
Mom contributes what she can. She works a few days a week in a small boutique, and every month she writes me a small check to cover utilities. Sometimes I want to ask her why she's not working more, but the words never come out. As her daughter, I feel as though she's earned the right to work less now that she's raised a family. But as the adult who's responsible for three young children, as well as for her, I wonder if she should be doing more.
She does help with the kids. There are many mornings that the girls and I walk across the driveway, still in our pajamas, and ask if she wouldn't mind babysitting for a few hours while I write or clean the house. The girls dance up and down on her front porch, peeking their heads into her doorway. "Please, please," they chant. "Grammy" truly is their favorite person. She's always willing, but I feel as though I'm imposing.
Sacrifices make me feel resentful, not only of my mom, but of my father for leaving us in this mess.
Although we've never been careless with our money, the current economic climate has us stretched beyond our means. Though we get by, we barely have enough to save at the end of the month. As I contemplate Christmas this year, I realize I won't be able to get everything on my daughters' ever growing wishlists. Julia, my oldest, has been begging us for dance lessons for the last year. We were finally able to sign her up for a five-week session, but we're not sure if we'll be able to let her continue after that. It's sacrifices like these that make me feel occasionally resentful, not only of my mom, but of my father for leaving us in this mess.
The other morning, Julia was drawing at the dining room table. When she was finished, she called me over to see her creation. "Can you tell who everyone is?" she asked. I identified each member of our family correctly. At first she smiled, but then frowned. "You forgot Grammy!" she exclaimed. She was right. I skipped the petite stick figure with curly hair and round glasses. My omission wasn't purposeful, but it was telling. There are times I would like to forget the predicament we're in. I would like to move to another house without my mom and live the life I used to imagine. But I do value what this experience has taught me: to be more responsible than my own parents were.
©2008 Shelley Abreu and Babble
About the Author
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Shelley Abreu is a freelance writer and mother of three. She lives on Cape Cod. Visit her blog about faith, family and finding happiness at www.shelleyabreu.com. |
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