The Christmas Splurge

Everyone knows my mom was a giver. She gave and she sacrificed (happily) to and for her husband, kids, parents. My father doesn't usually get the same credit. Back in the day, the king of the castle did not leave a job where the boss was verbally abusing employees for years. Nor did he leave because he was looking for a change or a new career or even maybe more money. If you had a wife and three kids at home, you worked for the same company for 35 years and hoped that if you did your best, you'd get some pay raises, maybe a promotion and finally, live off that pension. There was no internet boom to run off to.

My mom managed the money down to the penny. Many times in the earlier years, I remember watching her rolling coins and frequently working on the checkbook at the kitchen table. Those coins, turned into bills at the bank, got them through to the end of a pay period more than once. As time went on, raises came, the older kids had jobs and the savings accounts had some padding. When retirement came, they were comfortable but my dad was offered a contract position with a utilities surveying company called Dig Safe. They paid him very well and there was a windfall near Christmas.

I was in my early 20's, I guess. My father handed my sister and me each a wad of cash. We were to go out and spend it all on my mother. My mother who had worn inexpensive, unstlyish clothes for years so that she could pay for our school clothes and save some money. On my first trip to the mall, I took my dad. I steered him into Victoria's Secret to get my mom a pretty (respectable) satin nightgown before we did anything else. He told this story to everyone--he loved that I had the right idea.

My folks rarely bought gifts for each other--it was money that could be spent on others. But on this Christmas day, after all the gifts had been opened and we were just sitting back, there was a "Ho, ho, ho!" from the hallway and in walked my brother, dressed as Santa and carrying a large black bag full of gifts which he dropped at my mom's feet. She was shocked. She opened gifts of beautiful clothing, jewelry, make-up, books...It was very moving and probably long overdue.

And what do you think a woman who had scrimped and saved and sacrificed all those years did with her new things? She saved them. 75% of them were put away for sometime when she needed something special and then never used. We were somewhat disappointed. Didn't she understand? She had been splurged on and she could revel in it. But that was not my mom. The woman who styled her hair the same way for 50 years. The woman who applied her make-up in 30 seconds or less, using lipstick for rouge. We really shouldn't have been surprised.

What my mother did with her gifts was her business and ultimately inconsequential. But I think my father had been waiting 35 years for that moment. 35 years of working at the phone company, maintaining a house, taking care of kids. I see my own husband working like a dog to make ends meet and think of my dad and the sacrifices he made. My mom had the winning personality, but my dad was no slouch. As a young woman, I was so proud to help him out with that Christmas wish for his bride. It was good to see him smile--the carefree smile of a man who could sit back and enjoy the spoils of a long-fought battle of making a living.