Back in the heyday of my career pre-medical retirement, I made an amazingly good living for myself. Years of hard work in the cut-throat world of advertising landed me in a place where money was abundant and never a worry. What a blessing to live in such abundance. I could easily take care of myself in a fairly luxurious manner never having to worry about covering the bills or tempering my wants. The money was always there. Thanks advertising. You did me good.

Beyond what I was able to do for myself, I was blessed to be able to help others. The people I loved could count on me. One of the most gratifying experiences I had back in those salad days was when I was able to set my nephew up with a safe space to get his start in life. This story requires some context so I’ll share a bit about my life to provide perspective. You see, I grew up in a city neighborhood called Morningside where houses were close together separated by concrete alleyways making for close neighbors and a tight neighborhood. Growing up in this city neighborhood left me with an abundance of memories of staying outside playing with my neighborhood friends until the street lights came on. We didn’t need much to entertain us. Just each other.

I lived at home in my parent’s house in Morningside until I got married at 30 years old. I was so happy there! I remember crying on the day I moved from my growing up house to move into the little house my husband and I bought to start our lives together in the suburbs. I wished I could stay in my little city neighborhood forever but my husband was a child of the suburbs and we decided together to begin our lives together living in the greenery and spacious yards of a suburb called Allison Park. I grew to love our little house in the burbs but you could never take the city girl out of me. My parents remained in that city house that I grew up in. My elderly mother remains there to this day.

My nephew Alex is the second of my sister’s three children. He experienced some challenges growing up that led to school troubles and lots of adolescent challenges as he struggled to come to terms with his homosexuality.No kid wants to be different from the norm. Watching Alex struggle broke my heart. As a devotee of mental health challenges of my own, we had a level of connection that was truly special. I wasn’t homosexual but I always struggled with feeling different – like I didn’t fit in. I worked with therapists who attempted to guide me through this search for self. I could relate to Al’s struggles and it broke my heart to witness his pain.

Once high school was over, Al decided to pursue a career in the trades, specifically in construction management through the trade union. This path gave him a viable opportunity for building a life that didn’t require a college education but money was short for a kid just getting started. Getting him set up with a place to live outside of his mom’s house was an important part of his early quest for independence. At about this time the house next door to my mother’s where I grew up went up for sale. I realized how many benefits there would be to Al living in that house. Not only would he get a strong start toward independence, he’d be right next door to my elderly mother who by this time lived alone once my dad was gone. She was mostly independent, but having family so close by would be nearly ideal. And because of my own unique set of personal circumstances and the state of the real estate market, I knew I could buy that house easily. And buy that house I did.

Once Alex was settled in the benifits of the living arrangement were almost immediately evident. Now, my mother had a little buddy nearby who she could cook for and share meals with. My mother being a nurturer at heart was in her glory having someone she loved to take care of while Al was thrilled to have the help that came from not having to worry about cooking for himself while he got used to living on his own. Watching this symbiotic relationship develop and deepen made my heart full. Knowing my devotion to my career made it possible filled me with pride. It made me feel full knowing my commitment to my big corporate job wasn’t just about comfort and luxuries for myself but it was about my ability to do good for those I love.

Flash forward to the present day where today I ran out of yogurt and I have $5.76 in my bank account until Social Security comes through in two weeks. My how the mighty have fallen. I tell this story not to look for pats on the back for past good deeds but to illustrate the many levels of stress that come with being disabled and medically retired. I’m one of the folks that falls through the cracks where I don’t qualify for assistance programs because thanks to private long term disability insurance I make too much money. And yet, even though I make too much money I will go two weeks without basic food and other necessities for lack of funds.

And thus I am haunted by the banal daily worries that would have been unthinkable in my long-past life of corporate success. It’s a reality that just doesn’t seem fair.