Epilogue

Life is so different now that it is difficult to believe that such diametrically opposite lifestyles can happen in the same lifetime.  While I am not rich, I have absolutely everything I need. 

I appreciate having a brand new car sitting in my garage.  I love my gorgeous home and treasure the fine carpet on my floors.  I can spend whatever I want to spend on anything I want.  I spend $40.00 an hour for a lovely person to come help me learn how to use my computer better; I paid a handyman $45.00 to come open my windows recently; I spent $342.00 on my grandson for his 17th birthday gift, and more than $350 on my grandaughter for her 20th birthday gift.  I gave another grandaughter $2200.00  recently to help her purchase a car.  I spent a little over $26.00 on fabric for Halloween costumes for two darling nieces last week---hardly what could be called a necessity!  I spent about a $1000 recently on some new landscaping, just because I wanted it; who "needs" frivolous landscaping?  I ordered a new velour suit to wear on Thanksgiving day from Coldwater Creek last week that was more than $100.00. I often spend $15.00 to $20.00 for lunch, and not long ago, attended a magnificent brunch at a luxurious resort that was $45.00 including tax and tip.  I often go out with friends and spend $30.00 or more for a fine dinner. None of the above are necessities, mind you; I would have survived without them. All this from a person who lived as a child when there was never enough money to purchase necessities, even toothpaste or toilet paper, much less luxuries.

It took me nearly a lifetime to learn how to spend money and not feel guilty about it. But I did learn, though I still treasure the things I spend it on, more than would ordinarily be expected.  And of course, I adore my wonderful giraffe, Noah, and yesterday I impulsively purchased a 10-pack of Three Musketeers, just for fun.  Guess what? They are all chocolate inside, there were no pink or white ones at all,  a significant disappointment. The nougat filling was not nearly as delicious as I remember it tasting in about 1933.

These stories were written down in September and October, 1999, nearly the end of the 20th century.  They are recorded just as we are about to begin a new millennium. 

May it be a century that holds no depressions.

Maxine Mays
maxibug@aol.com