I never feel as helpless, infuriated, and frustrated as when I talk about finances with my mom.
We randomly talked today during breakfast – I asked her what her fears were. She shared they were being terminally sick and in pain. She asked me, and I replied, not doing what I was created to do. She interpreted that as becoming successful, making money, achieving, blah blah blah. She’s right in some aspect, but I meant more in finding my path and killing it.
Anyway, that led us to a conversation about money and the future. I explained that I felt the burden of taking care of her and Dad in the future. That I couldn’t and didn’t want to see her working at 80 years old, even though she seems to be fine with it. I asked her who was going to sustain them, how they were going to progress in age and not struggle – she couldn’t answer. I knew the answer – me – but I wanted to see what she would say. And I don’t mean that I feel like I’m forced to take it on, but I’ve accepted it and I consider any future success as a way to take care of the family.
When I asked about her about what, if anything, they had done to think about the future, she couldn’t answer. Blows my mind. Seriously. And to be honest, I wanted her to feel some sense of remorse and guilt for the situation we were in. I wanted her to pay for her decisions. Sounds horrible, I know. I have my moments, I tell you.
To be honest, it’s fine that I take care of them. I want the kind of wealth that doesn’t penny-pinch and calculate. I want to freely share what I reap, especially with my parents. It would actually be the best gift ever, to be able to provide for them.
But, without airing out everything, I get so angry thinking about how my dad handles money, her money. And then I get angry thinking about how she allowed herself to get to this place. She submitted everything out of fear, and in the name of God and the Bible. She submitted her dignity, future, livelihood… she never educated herself about finances, never thought to protect herself and her means of living. She has no options except to work minimum wage, and hope and pray for divine provision.
It kills me that she never protected herself financially. I get livid thinking about how she gave in everything to my dad because she was afraid how he would react if she refused even the slightest. It would be an understatement to say this enrages me.
It brings me to a bottomless pit of resentment that she doesn’t take responsibility for her actions and the only thing she can look toward is that God will provide. To that, I can only say that I believe God truly meets his people and their needs when they’ve also done their part using whatever resources and efforts to position themselves to receive. I know, that sounds like I’m completely disregarding grace and sovereign provision, which is why I have to humble myself at one point and shut my mouth. Because God can provide, regardless of situation. I just don’t operate within the same framework so it’s hard to swallow and accept. And I don’t plan on getting moted in the future, so yes, I believe lol.
Although I know she’s coming from a place I don’t know and understand, I couldn’t continue the conversation with her – I could feel myself getting heated.
In the back of my mind though, I realized at some point that the only reaction to this thing was so accept it. It is what it is. It already is what it is. There is nothing I can do to change what has happened, what has been happening. There is nothing I can do to change my mom or dad, their mindsets.
And I knew, if I really did want to change the situation, I needed to be the change, I needed to take responsibility for my actions. I could sit and point fingers all day to no avail. I simply need to eat my own words and make shit happen while trusting the universe and God. That is all.
I feel like I was all over the place. Being frustrated definitely isn’t good for my writing lol.