I went on a run today through a neighbouring community where I'm pretty sure the median home price was at least $1.5 million. The path went through a green space that nearly all the houses backed onto. There were ponds with water features and playgrounds littered around and every backyard was perfectly manicured. And the windows. Every house was more window than wall, it was like the people and the houses were looking at me as I ran by, thinking, "She's poor. She doesn't belong here."
Although I really didn't belong, I couldn't help but wonder if there would be a day when I would. I don't necessarily aspire to be wealthy, but the thought of being comfortable and settled down, of owning a home of my own and being able to splurge every now and then, feels like an unobtainable luxury. At this point in the game, Jon and I are temporally poor.
Don't get me wrong, I am very happy because I realize how eternally rich we are. We have so very much to be grateful for. Heck, temporally we still have a ton to be grateful for too. We just aren't quite standing on our own.
Last September we moved in with Jon's parents. Our home is a very generously shared basement. Everyday, we pray thanking Heavenly Father for Jon's parent's generosity. In January, Jon quit his job. In retrospect, it would have been wise to ensure new employment was obtained before making this decision, but Jon was mentally in a very unhappy place with his job. We don't have a lot to show for it, but we're happy (especially Jon, despite the stress of looking for work).
This point in our lives reminds me of the stories my parents told me growing up. The stories of how poor they were. How it was a big deal to treat themselves to some Dairy Queen after my Dad sold back his textbooks. How the day they paid the last student loan off was more celebrated than the day my Dad got his PhD certificate in the mail. I'm grateful that they shared these stories with me and I'm grateful that I remember them. Because if I didn't remember those stories, it would be tough to realize my parents weren't always where they are now. So someday, someday, maybe Jon and I will be there too.
Although I really didn't belong, I couldn't help but wonder if there would be a day when I would. I don't necessarily aspire to be wealthy, but the thought of being comfortable and settled down, of owning a home of my own and being able to splurge every now and then, feels like an unobtainable luxury. At this point in the game, Jon and I are temporally poor.
Don't get me wrong, I am very happy because I realize how eternally rich we are. We have so very much to be grateful for. Heck, temporally we still have a ton to be grateful for too. We just aren't quite standing on our own.
Last September we moved in with Jon's parents. Our home is a very generously shared basement. Everyday, we pray thanking Heavenly Father for Jon's parent's generosity. In January, Jon quit his job. In retrospect, it would have been wise to ensure new employment was obtained before making this decision, but Jon was mentally in a very unhappy place with his job. We don't have a lot to show for it, but we're happy (especially Jon, despite the stress of looking for work).
This point in our lives reminds me of the stories my parents told me growing up. The stories of how poor they were. How it was a big deal to treat themselves to some Dairy Queen after my Dad sold back his textbooks. How the day they paid the last student loan off was more celebrated than the day my Dad got his PhD certificate in the mail. I'm grateful that they shared these stories with me and I'm grateful that I remember them. Because if I didn't remember those stories, it would be tough to realize my parents weren't always where they are now. So someday, someday, maybe Jon and I will be there too.
the days when my own parents were "temporally poor"
Oh I know this all too well! When people ask where we live I proudly say Garrison Green! They don't have to know its in the ghetto part at the back...where all the poor people live in Calgary Housing right? One day, one day ha ha. Also that is the cutest picture!!
ReplyDeleteHeck, I'd take one of those Cyprus Villas any day!! Haha, it's a plus they're tucked behind such a ritzy neighbourhood.
DeleteWell come live here! There are lots empty!
DeleteBoy oh boy oh boy do I understand where you are coming from. Joe and I lived with his parents for a year. It was only supposed to be two months. A YEAR figuring out work, and even now Joe just barely got a job that might maybe pay our bills someday. His parents have been SUPER generous in helping us get our feet under us. DQ is certainly a luxury! ;) And my run also includes million dollar homes. In fact, many people in my ward live in those neighbourhoods and I wonder if I will ever be apart of that world. Honestly, I just want to be able to pay the bills and afford the odd vacation or luxury! Being poor stinks. But it's also made me a lot more grateful for the very small things. Like DQ.
ReplyDeleteI guess the plus of experiencing modest circumstances is that you'll appreciate it more when you can pay bills and afford the odd vacation. Heck, if I could go buy some new summer clothes because I've been pregnant for the past two summers and only have maternity stuff, I'd feel pretty high on the hog.
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