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[quote=Anonymous]My parents grew up dirt poor. Large families, not enough money, not enough anything. My dad didn't even have indoor plumbing until he was a preteen or young teenager. Both my parents worked hard and were able to make a decent (albeit still poor-maybe lower middle class) lifestyle for me and my sister when we were little. Much better than they had, to say the least.

Then my dad was injured at work and everything changed. He couldn't work, his company tried to deny responsibility, fought him tooth and nail resisting compensation beyond the bare minimum of medical bills. In the meantime, my mom had to work full time, overtime if she could, and go back to school. We had to stay with my grandparents a lot because we couldn't afford a sitter. Dad wasn't always able to care for us by himself and mom was never home. My grandparents were racist, alcoholic assholes. They were abusive to my mother, holding it over her head that they were helping her so much and acting like she was ungrateful.

My parents refused to make us endure the free lunch program, having been there themselves as kids. I think they thought it would be harder for us because we didn't start off as free lunch kids. I'm not sure how they managed it because it was $.90/day and there were two of us. I would save my dimes after lunch and get a treat on Fridays.

My dad was thrust into the role of sahd when he was able to care for us and we didn't need to go to my grandparents house after school. He obviously resented it. I think he felt like he failed us. Probably suffered from depression. And we weren't very nice to him in turn. We were kids. We didn't know. I'm getting teary writing about this. He took a job as a gas station attendant, getting paid under the table so it wouldn't interfere with his disability payments to make ends meet and to buy a few gifts for us for Christmas. He had to work on Christmas Eve overnight. I woke up before he got home and saw all the Santa gifts under the tree and cried and cried because mom wouldn't let me open them until dad got home from work.

Things got better when I was in middle school. Mom graduated and had a good job, and dad's financial issues finally got settled. Now they're quite wealthy.

I don't know all of their struggles because they were very good at hiding them from us. I'm thankful beyond words that my kids haven't known such hardships. My parents tried so hard to break the cycle for us, and they did, just later than they had hoped. My kids are the first generation not to have food stamps or choose between x and food. But it's not because I did anything special. I just had a better jumping of point than a lot of people do.

Thanks for bumping. And thanks to everyone for sharing. [/quote]

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