My Mother was "thrifty." Ethel loved
nice things. Highly skilled in the art
of squeezing blood out of a turnip,
she was willing (and able) to do just
about anything to pay next to nothing.
Hence as is the case for most errant
tots, I spent much of my life trying
to do the opposite. Thus for most of
my adulthood I was a spendthrift.
Which often made finances a rather
touchy subject in our house. Neither
Frank nor I willing to push the others
buttons. Until I finally checked out...
Frank has always been my rock - my
counter balance - my alter ego - and
at times a pain in my ass. He knows
me better than I myself. Thus over
the years he slowly tried to change
my approach to money matters. All
while he stealthily prepared for our
future. Stashing cash away while I
threw it away with abandon. And
fortunately for the both of us, his
efforts ultimately paid off. Enabling
us to continue to live in a way that
suits us. No wonder he's my savior.
It's been said you marry your mother.
A child of the Great Depression, my
Mother carefully managed our assets.
Father was a banker. However when
it came to home finance, one doubts
he even got a vote. If nothing else my
Mother knew the value of a dollar and
made sure that ever penny was spent
wisely. Who knew that beneath his
debonair exterior, Frank was equally
a tightwad. The difference is that he
somehow squirreled it away behind
my back. Otherwise we'd have nada.
Slowly but surely I've learned that
without pain there is no gain. With
Frank's help I found a way to enjoy
limiting our spending. I've learned
to limit immediate gratification in
order to insure long term security.
I'm humbled and grateful that my
my financial advisor and husband
continues to find new ways to make
our hard earned cash work harder.
Therefore while I miss Bergdorf
Goodman I've also learned a most
important lesson. LESS IS MORE.
