Crumbs of life

I’m one of seven children. Growing up in my household gave me ‘just enough’ food. There were never ‘seconds’ nor leftovers from a meal, bread did the filler if there was an emptiness. I was an extremely sensitive child and being sixth in line, I remember watching my older siblings in awe and admiration.

My parents did their best but that Scottish generation weren’t publicly demonstrative, so words of love, loving touch and individual praise was absent.

My mum was incredibly quiet while my dad called the shots. We all were obedient and respectful. My dad had a way of implying that ‘just enough’ was the rule. Particularly when it came to money. His ambition was to provide for his family and no more. His luxury was a beer or three and ‘make do’. A better house, or bigger life would mean that someone who needed it more would do without. I learned at an early age to make do. I’m really very good at making the most of anything.

My mum might have had a secret ambitious streak that I never knew about. She was defiant and as private as she could be with seven children. But she died at the age of 56 when I was 25, so I didn’t get chance to really know her. As I listen to my older siblings now, a different version of my idea of her comes to the surface. She worked a small job in spite of my dad’s wishes for her. She saved all that money and paid off our mortgage 10 years later. She bought shares of a coffee company, something that seemed ridiculous at the time, when I couldn’t get money for my teenage whims. Who she was and who I thought she was are two very different things.

I learned not to ask for much, if anything. I learned not to expect much in the line of both money and love. I learned that being humble and allowing men to be in charge was expected from me.

But…

I had a rebellious streak inside me that would bubble to the surface. I had ambition and a success drive that surprised me. It would spill out occasionally but I would temper it all back and make sure that I kept the status quo. I learned that rich people were better than me and there was no way that I could match them so don’t try.

I became content with the crumbs of life and I didn’t complain because my basic needs were met.

Navigating through life, I accepted the crumbs in love too and for 30 years was mostly content with a good husband until I wanted more. But how dare I? How can I leave a good man, comfortable home and easy life? Should I be listening to the inner ambition that had been gnawing at my soul? What if I don’t get more? What if it’s worse out there? What if I make a mistake?

The gnawing became a knowing that I wasn’t being fair to the good man and I was denying myself the opportunity to experience different. Defying the obedient instruction of my Catholic youth, I divorced, gasp! The world didn’t crash (although a few months later it ground to a holt due to the covid pandemic) and I’ve made it through five years of single life.

My thirst for adventure cracked open and my creativity leaked out. I started doing brave daring things that I’d stopped myself from doing. I started enjoying the crumbs of life with a relish of love. But now I realise that I’m standing in front of an amazing buffet table and only taking ‘just enough’. It’s my buffet table, it’s ALL mine for the taking and other people won’t miss out, because they have their own table.

I have my health, my interesting complicated and talented brain, I have an amazing support system and I have opportunities. After a lifetime of self limitation, perhaps it’s time to eat!

And how do I do this? One mouth FULL at a time. It starts here and it starts now…. Yummy!