About Money

About Money

I purchased a whistling teakettle for my mother this morning.  She didn’t want to use the Keurig single-coffee maker on the counter, saying the coffee was too strong.  I saw her using a small saucepan to heat up water for her Maxwell House instant coffee that she has drank for the past 50 years.  So I thought the teakettle would be a great buy.  I could tell that she was pleased at my purchase, but she thought it was too expensive ($19.99 + tax!) and asked if I could return it.  I refused to do so, telling her it would please me to no end if she were to use it.  She has, and seems happy in doing so.  But she has always been thrifty, and described to me her history with money:

When your father and I got married I discovered that he only had $29 to his name.  He made very good money for that time but never saved any.  He would play mahjong or would take out friends to eat and play.  I decided that I would have to control the money and your father grudgingly agreed.  Through the years we saved to the point where your father’s friends made fun of me.  “She can really squeeze every drop out of every penny,” they proclaimed. 

When I wrote to Elder Brother that I had married he was furious.  “He could be a thief or a murderer!”  I insisted that your father was a good man.  As we saved money I would want to send some back to my family.  Your father always agreed and would accompany me to have money wired to China.  Fifty dollars could buy 6 months of rice with other necessities.  Every 3 months we would send money and Elder Brother’s opinion of your father turned completely.  I told him we should send money also to his family but he said that that they were fairly comfortable financially and we should just help family in need.

Your father would give me his weekly paycheck and I would give him his allowance.  I would hand over $40 for him for the week.  He would often take it to gamble in his mahjong game.  He was an excellent player (having been encouraged by his grandmother since he was 8 years old) but there would be the unlucky nights.  I would refuse to give him any more money for the week.  Mahjong seemed to be the only source of argument for us.  He would get so involved in his games that at times he wouldn’t return home until 3AM and a huge argument would ensue.  But he always apologized and actually would do better about his return time.  I know his friends felt he was henpecked but I think he realized that his family was more important than these “friends”.

As your father’s professional culinary talents were increasingly recognized his salary quickly grew.  Mr. Wang, a financial advisor, befriended my father and would suggest certain promising investments.  When he learned how much we had saved over a short period of time, he asked how we had been able to manage to do so.  Your father would always credit me.  Mr. Wang complimented him on his choice of a wife and told him he was very lucky.  I think Mr. Wang was a very smart man.  We knew nothing about investing but did take some of Mr. Wang’s advice and actually did well in the stock market.

Years later, after your father became ill, I learned that even after many years spouses could keep secrets from one another.  He had a brief period of mental clarity a week before he passed.  He called me over to his bed and told me not to discard any of his suits and jackets because he thought he “might” have left some money in them.  I checked and in his pockets and jacket linings I discovered $8000.  This was his mahjong money that he had made over the years.   Did I tell you that your father was an excellent player?

When I came home from work today to have lunch with my mother I saw her putting a bread tie and rubber band from our daily delivered newspaper into a plastic Glad bag.  “You might need these one day.”  I nodded, inwardly smiled and thanked God for making my mother exactly the way she is.