Thread by @WhippleMarc, Shredding papers. Taking a break as the shredder overheated.Found my parents' tax [...]

Shredding papers. Taking a break as the shredder overheated.

Found my parents' tax returns going clear back to the 1970's. It's like watching an American Dream in stop-motion.

My dad only had an associate's degree from community college. He met my mom at university.

They decided to drop out and get married. I came along nine months almost to the day later. My sister two years later. My dad got a really good job a few years after. They bought a house. He worked hard.

They were both children of Depression parents, super poor. My grandmother only second generation American. Well, on paper, and that's another kind of American story. Not a pretty one.

My dad was tight with a dollar, so tight he made Washington scream in pain. He put money away. We lived way below our means, I think. Then ten years after my first sister, two more. Rewind and Replay, if you've heard that story.

But Dad kept working hard, he was very dependable, very flexible. People liked him. He kept moving up. In 1983 I found a fancy (i.e. godawful ugly brown vinyl) binder from their very first visit to a Financial Advisor. Life insurance was bought. Plans were made.

Every year, a better tax return than the one before. When my younger sisters were old enough, mom went to work She never finished college. But she worked hard, she was smart and dependable. She moved up from part-time bookkeeping to being a loan officer at a bank.

Then she worked for the state. My sisters and I went to college. Lawyer, doctor, accountant, medical administrator. Grandkids start coming. My dad, who was gone A LOT when I was young, and wasn't the most hands-on father when he was home, starts mellowing out.

He was so good with the grandkids. My mother loved spoiling them. They bought their dream house outside town in the country. They both work, they put money away. Yes, the American Dream. Let me show you it.

Then my dad got sick. Cancer. They gave him six months. He lasted more then four years. But he had money put away, they had life insurance. My mom was able to pay off the house. She got a few more years in it.

But it was too big, she had no support, and she was sick too. Her liver was failing. She was on the transplant list, but she was hours from the hospital when minutes can make a difference. She moved to Iowa City, close to two of my sisters and the hospital.

She had Social Security, her state pension, my dad's pension. And my dad's retirement account. She was okay. And by a miracle, multiple miracles, she got her liver, and four more years of spoiling her grandkids and fussing about Christmas.

I was so worried about her getting COVID. Sixty-nine years old, on immune suppressants, not the healthiest lifestyle. But it didn't get her. We don't know what happened, but it was very quick. One day fine, next day brain-dead, day after that, gone.

Now I'm going through the records of a lifetime. Two lifetimes, since she never threw anything away and all of my dad's stuff is here too. Their high-school diplomas. Their marriage service. Pictures, so many faded pictures.

They had their problems - we all had our problems. But now that the race is over, I think I can feel like they had a pretty good run. And they left us a legacy. Not exactly screw-you money, but not nothing, either. One last blessing for their children.

I don't go a day without thinking about my dad and I doubt I'll go a day without thinking of my mom, but now memories is all there is.

Thanks, dad.

Thanks, mom.

Love you.

And now that the soppy stuff is over, I will be commenting on a few of these things because I am also Angry about some of it.

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