Most of us, if we live long enough, will end up with one or two skeletons in our closet. Skeletons from our past that we are at best ashamed of; skeletons we prefer not to think about, skeletons that haunt us occasionally in the wee hours of the morning when we should be sleeping peacefully.
I have a couple of skeletons that I try to put out of my mind when they come sneaking in; skeletons that bruise my self-esteem while creating self hate every time they show up in the dark recesses of my mind.
This was a difficult decision, but I am going to share one of those skeletons with you. Why? Consider it another form of confession.
I was a single mother when I lost my job in March of 1980. For those of you who either don't know or don't remember, those were the lean Regan years and the country was deep into a recession. Unemployment was at an all time high and jobs were extremely hard to come by. 1980 found many a college graduate waiting tables or pumping gas.
I had been able to establish a meager savings account for emergencies, but certainly nothing that we could depend to live on for any length of time.
Luckily, I qualified for unemployment. Not very much, but enough for us to eke by. Thankfully, Regan realized the unemployment problem and offered several extensions.
Needless to say by December 1981 our savings account had long since been exhausted. The unemployment checks were just paying the rent and utilities with a bit left over for food. However, it was winter and because of huge heating bills our food was at an all time low.
I remember my 10 year-old son asking if we could have steak for dinner one evening. I could make a package of hot dogs or a can of tuna stretch for a good week. But that was in good times and now we were down to some potatoes and a couple boxes of macaroni and cheese. Period. Steve was unaware of the financial problems at the time. I smiled and ruffled his hair, mumbling something about next week.
These were desperate times and I was a desperate young mother.
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