Tag: MLabout

I know I spent a lot of time writing about high school and colleges jobs, but they were very important. Money has been a stressor most of my life. I grew up in an upper-middle-class home, where as far as material things go I could not want for anything. However, once my parents separated the financial comfort my family all knew was suddenly gone. Now that same money needed to support two households on Long Island. I was sort of able to grasp that back then and even more so now knowing what it takes to run a household.

I applied to colleges not really understanding the weight of the cost of college, even back in 2001. My parents were able to cover ~$10,000 a year, I had some scholarships, and I took out loans to cover the rest. What I didn’t anticipate was things like the cost of textbooks, food not covered in your mail plan, fun money, etc. I had a work-study job that I worked ~15 hours a week, but just at the story goes, I applied for a credit card (and got a free t-shirt for doing so) my freshman year and that’s how I paid for my textbooks and other spending money. Thankfully I was a Resident Assistant my last 2 years of college and only had to take out small loans those two years. I even chose a graduate school program mainly because it was FREE and I got free housing, a meal plan, and a small stipend. When those first round of school loan repayment bills came in 6 months after I graduate with my Masters in November 2007 I was scared. In fact, the last day I spent with my Dad was heavily based on him trying to ease my concerns about money.

Now don’t get me wrong I made some not so great financial decisions like buying not one, but TWO new cars, one at 17 and one at 23. Actually, I leased the first car at 17, which we were able to turn in early – why my parents allowed this, to begin with, I’ll never understand. I also traded down my second car for a used car and cut my car payment in half after 2.5 years.  I also lived alone from 23-29 because living in a college town and having a roommate didn’t seem like a socially acceptable option at the time. Plus wasn’t living alone and paying your bills “being an adult.” I’ll file this under elder millennial problems, it’s a different world these days, a more fiscally aware world. It wasn’t until I moved to outside DC and got a roommate that I was able to get a better grip on my finances. It’s easier to cut back on bills that aren’t rent!

I’ve made so many decisions around money. And yet I was ALWAYS juuuuust behind on money. It’s a mo’ money, mo’ problems kind of world. These days I have a grip on anticipated spending and bills, but it’s those car repairs or vet bills that can stress me out. Also, all the expenses of home ownership and renovations are no joke!  Even with a good salary and a side hustle, I’m never comfortable. I’m not behind, but I’m not comfortable. I think part of my stress around money is that I have no financial safety net in the form of a parent and haven’t since they split. I never got to make a dumb financial decision and get bailed out. I bailed myself out every time, even if it meant pawning things to pay a vet bill – true story.

I can’t write about money without talking about why we are dragging our feet wedding planning. I also have no one paying for a wedding. The unnecessary pressure I get from people, especially coworkers who don’t even matter yet make off-hand comments about “my fiance of 5 years.” Honestly everytime I think about tapping into our rainy day fund and spending money on something wedding related, it rains.  We don’t want an outlandish wedding, but we want to do the wedding we want to do, eventually. Right now we have no plans to head down to city hall and get married on paper and no set wedding plans either. We have ideas and dreams, but to save and then spend all that money in a swoop in a going to be a hard pill to swallow. I need to win some wedding contest. I applied for one once, maybe I should get back on that.

Measuring Monday: Daddy

Tumblr has been my quiet safe space for 8 years. This has been a place to grieve and be vulnerable. Much of what I compiled below for this week’s Measuring Monday was already written and shared here over the years. Only now am I beginning to share my writing more publicly and I am thankful for the space and community here when I was less brave.

The world lost a great man 11 years ago yesterday. My world especially got a lot dimmer and for sure a lot less funny.

My Dad was awesome. He was born in Brooklyn and raised on Long Island in the same town I grew up in. He was the first in his family to attend and graduate college (with an Art degree) and after being a hippie in Southern California for a few wanderlust months he went back for a Masters in Education.

My Dad was an art teacher in a low income, minority school district and he LOVED IT. He spent his ENTIRE 33-year career in the district. After teaching for 20ish years he went on to administration. He was a middle school assistant principal for a number of years and then a high school assistant principal for a number of years. They wanted him to be principal, but he didn’t want to deal with politics.

When I was in first grade my Dad started a Saturday enrichment program for K-12 students, he ran the program for 12 years. Some of my favorite childhood memories were from that program. My Dad also piloted a night school program within the school district so people could get their HS diplomas. My Dad was a pretty big deal in the K-12 Education world. Even after he retired he couldn’t stay away. The last year of his life he was teaching in an education certificate program at a Dallas Community College. My Dad was great at what he did.

We shared a love of many, many things, especially musicals. RENT was one of our favorites and after he died “Seasons of Love” took on a new meaning. I’m measuring those years within my “dash” (it’s a great poem if you are not familiar, look it up) in daylights – in sunsets – in midnights – in cups of coffee – in inches – in miles – in laughter – in strife and more.  Back in January 2010, a friend of mine challenged me to measure my year in cups of coffee, which lead to measuring my miles, my body, my health and the rest is history. I get a lot of joy and satisfaction in measuring my life. It makes life seem a little more permanent and a little less fleeting at times.

The last 3-4 years of his life I pretty much talked to my Dad every day, even multiple times a day. Since he was retired he was available to talk whenever. I generally would call him when I was walking to and from class in grad school. Even if it was just a few minutes we’d have a great chat. I can honestly say we were best friends. There are still times when I wish I had my Dad to call.

Our last day was a fabulous Daddy-Daughter day – we were dorks and really called them that. Little did I know that a week later he would be taken from me. I was living in North Texas at the time, 5 months into my first job out of grad school and I was going through a rocky patch. My Dad lived 2.5 hours away in Dallas and wanted to come up for the day to cheer me up. Plus my he was having gastric bypass surgery that Thursday and I really wanted to see him before then.

Part of the reason I moved to Texas was to be closer to my Dad. My parents got divorced after my freshman year of high school and he stayed local, but once I went to college we never lived in the same state. I was in Connecticut and he was in New York or Florida or Texas. I saw my Dad so much in those 5 months we both lived in Texas it was wonderful, some of our best times. I had a lot of ups and downs with my Dad, but our last few months were so much fun.

That last time we hung out I drove up to Oklahoma so we could go to the casino and play some slot machines. Well on the 20-mile drive to Oklahoma I get pulled over on a Sunday afternoon for doing 77 in a 70. I honestly wasn’t aware of my speed because it was an open road and because my Dad and I were singing along to the Aida soundtrack on the top of our lungs. I was so upset about the ticket, but my Dad comforted me and made me feel better, he always did. After the casino, we came back to my apartment, rearranged furniture, and just hung out.

I didn’t want him to leave. I had a sinking feeling about everything. That was the day he told me he was getting gastric bypass over a lap band. I wasn’t a fan of his decision to have either surgery, particularly not gastric bypass. He was 6’2 and 300-325 pounds MAYBE. He has lost 100 pounds through diet and exercise when I was in high school and he kept it off for 8 years before quickly gaining it back after he retired. I was disappointed that he was resorting to surgery. He had been talking about lap band for 6 months and talked to many doctors, went to consults etc. Then within a week of his surgery, his doctor talks him into gastric bypass.

His surgery was Thursday, a week before Thanksgiving. 3 days later that Sunday morning, November 18, 2017, my phone rings at 6:30am. I knew before I answered the phone that he was dead. He was still in the hospital and he essentially bled out internally. A blood transfusion and proper care could have saved his life. I was 2.5 hours away in North Texas not having been fully informed or able to fully comprehend post-op complications and too naive to realize I needed to come down. No twentysomething really thinks their Dad is going to die. I had just spent the prior Sunday with him and was scheduled to come down to Dallas Tuesday for the night before flying to NY for Thanksgiving.

I was devastated, I still am. My whole entire world forever changed. Everything about that day and the weeks and months that followed, including a failed wrongful death lawsuit due to the Texas good old boys club, was a nightmare. I sometimes wish I could “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” much of it.

He was 58, I was 24, and my sister was not quite 22. None of us were ready for him to be gone forever. My sister and I had already lost him once in 1998 when my parents separated and he moved out. To quote a friend who wrote about her Dad on his one year anniversary “I feel both lucky to have had my dad for so many years and angry that he was taken from me when I and he were too young. If I know anything better today than I did last year, it is exactly how complicated and messy life and death and grief are.”

My story is a complicated one on many levels. It’s a lot to bear, especially around the Holidays. Family drama and a Mother that I have a terrible relationship with makes things extra hard. There is no winning with her ever, my Dad was one of the few who really understood. I miss having him on my team. The sad reality is the 11 years that he’s been gone have also led to the 11 worst years in my relationship with my mom. A relationship that was rocky to begin with due to her alcoholism and emotional abuse.

The complications of life and death and grief were something I wasn’t expecting and it really causes tremendous pain. However, out of tragedy, I was finally able to find the motivation to get healthy and fit. I did the work, no shortcuts, no fad diets, and most importantly no surgery.

To quote a message from another friend years ago, about losing her mom, “Sometimes it takes the death of a loved one to wake us up. I consider that a lasting gift from my parent.” I found such comfort and hope in those words. My Daddy didn’t need that surgery and didn’t need to die. Sadly he did, but I refuse to let my weight control my life. I also couldn’t have his death be in vain. So in 2010, I started running, I took charge of my health. I also started fundraising for Accelerate Brain Cancer Cure (ABC2) since most people who have lost loved ones find solace in charity work and there wasn’t a community for my loss out there. So I adopted David Cook’s charity of choice since watching American Idol during those dark months that followed helped me get through each week.

And here I am 11 years later and in the best shape of my life thus far. I thank my Dad for that lasting gift no matter how painful it’s been. I only wish he was here to see me now and the wonderful all-around person I am today.

I’ll leave you with this. One quote I remember my Dad telling to me in a time of struggle in my life was, “Plant your own garden instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.” That quote has meant so much to me over the years. YOU only have one life and YOU need to make the most of out of, right now.

Love you Daddy.

RDJ 4/25/49-11/18/07