Posted by michelle on Friday, October 8, 2010 / Labels: friendship
“coffee money,” he says.
And I love this. I mean who doesn’t love a fistful of bills. It is usually far more than enough for coffee, but enough for a nice dinner out, or a new outfit, or a dozen or so trips to Starbucks. And I am particularly bad with money. I don’t have tons of credit card debt racked up. I just never ever balance my checkbook. ever. I am a horrible steward of almost all things, money and time included. I also associate a lot of guilt with money. If I spend 4$ on coffee, I feel bad because it is money that isn’t going to my family or serving the kingdom in any way. And I spend lots of 4$ on coffee….so the guilt and budget deficit tend to add up. So when my dad gives me cash, he is giving me freedom to indulge. A treat. Money that I don’t feel bad about spending or not giving away.
And it isn’t just he cash that I like, but the gesture. And I know that I am far too old to be taking money from my daddy. And he does it all sneaky. So my mom can’t see and as not to offend my husband. Who provides in all kinds of ways. Even my wasteful coffee, music, out to eat habits. And my parents have always been about parity among me and my siblings. He even counts out exactly how many Hershey kisses go in our stockings at Christmas to make sure it is even.
…but I absolutely can not picture my dad slipping either of my siblings cash like this. Partly because, they are both more mature and better with their money than I am. But this gesture feels special and just for me. Still the baby, even at 32.
(and who knows, maybe they get coffee money too…but don’t spoil it for me).
And this week, I have a friend who is aching. And I don’t know what to do for her. I feel helpless and horrible and wish I could swoop in and fix things. If I can’t fix anything at least some big grand gesture to let her know that she is loved and not alone.
But life is never that easy.
And I have been busy and tired and broke and not feeling well. And there have been no grand gestures. Which only left me feeling more inadequate.
I kept wondering what I could do to help. And coming up blank. It was enough to make me not want to try at all.
But then I remembered coffee money. And that I could do that for her. Not quite as big as my dad. But a smaller gift card. A few small indulgences to brighten up a few dark days. One cup at a time.
Sometimes gestures don’t need to be big to say big things.