The World Expands in Grey skies

When I was kid I don’t know if I knew that there were more than a handful of restaurants and fast food places in the world or if I even cared. We went out to eat only for very special occasions, like my confirmation. Then we went out to the only fancy restaurant was aware of in our small town, Christopher’s. It had hardly had any patrons and it was wonder it stayed in business, like many of the other “businesses” in our town.

On another special occasion, like grandma’s birthday, we might go to Pizza Hut on a Tuesday when children ate free. Sometimes we got a $2.00 bucket of chicken on KFC’s “Toonie Tuesdays.” My parents still don’t partake in many luxuries. They’ve cut out getting an occasional coffee at Tim Horton’s. As adults though, sometimes all of us take a vacation together to an all inclusive resort or go on a cruise. If anyone deserves it’s my parents, who work their fingers to the bone.

Maybe that’s why I never quite feel like I am making the cut. I know I don’t run a tight ship like my mother around the house. The occasions I forget to make a lunch and order out, or even go on a date with my husband, I think about the better uses that money could be going toward. Paying off our debts. Helping others.

But maybe it isn’t fair to compare myself. In my house, I don’t order my husband to do chores. I ask nicely. Mainly, if I want something done I do it myself. My husband and I are much calmer than my mother who is whirlwind of activity.

When we visited for Christmas, my husband spent some time alone in the room we stayed in, while my family conversed together. It drove my mother nuts that he didn’t want to spend the whole holiday with everyone else. I am just glad they didn’t get in a fight, because she asked me several times to drag him out of the room. I wouldn’t because I know he is an introvert, possibly on the autism spectrum, and needs space sometimes.

But back to growing up. Maybe my parents conservative living is why I hate buying things full-price. While my dad has moved on from cutting coupons and going store to store for the best sale, I wince at the prospect of buying things at what others would consider very reasonable prices. Why I prefer shopping at thrift stores, which was a necessity when I was young. Although part of it is I know I am not contributing to slave labor. I just finally bought a half-decent refurbished smart phone and I still feel some guilt.

But mainly, maybe my unease comes from the places I’ve been. I’ve met people, proud of their aluminum siding home with a dirt floor to sleep in. People who learned more in high school than I ever did- with a curriculum of physics, calculus, biology, Spanish, English, etc. People who studied and slept with mosquitoes biting them, while their roof leaked on their heads. A baby wasting away from aids in her mother’s arms, who I tried to comfort by stroking the head she couldn’t lift from her chest. A woman with seven children, the eldest 13, who all shared the one queen mattress they owned.

I’ve been in places where commodities like toilet paper are not a given. Where water and food is scarce. I can’t quite reconcile that with my life now. The only difference I see between us, is the geography we were born in and the color of my skin. But it’s gotten easier over the years to live with, which sometimes makes me feel worse and at other times stronger.