Retirement was plugging along nicely until I recently ran headlong into reality. In the space of two weeks, my bank account was hit by a 9.0 financial earthquake: I cracked a tooth which has since been extracted, had a semi-bone graft and implant put in, and had to get a “flipper (partial denture) to fill the gap until a crown can be installed in four months. All for the bargain basement price of a small used car.
The subsequent aftershock only registered a 6.5 on the financial Richter scale: my 15-year-old Honda’s transmission died an unceremonious death on Granville and 33rd. It didn’t even have the courtesy to take a few last gasping breaths. I’m told it will cost the equivalent of two weeks at an all-inclusive resort in Cuba.
Now that the shock has subsided and the crying has stopped, I realize that I should be grateful. If this is the worst thing that happens to me all year, I should count myself lucky. This is child’s play compared to illness and other bad stuff. Like my father used to say: “It’s only money.” So true. It comes and it goes, and we don’t always get to control the how or when. In the final analysis, money is fleeting, so why get all bent out of shape over a few big bills? It will sort itself out.
In one of my pensive moments, I wondered whether these large expenses were just the universe [feel free to replace this with G-d or any other belief system] telling me that I should be giving more money to charity. In other words, was the big guy upstairs saying: “I don’t think you gave enough money to charity this year, I’m going to take it from you anyway. And you’re not necessarily going to like how I do it.” I don’t view it as punishment, as much as the world setting me straight on how I should spend my money more wisely. If money is going to come and go, then better it should go to something worthy, like a hospital, a place of worship or a charity that does medical research.
Many religions have tithing, where you give a set percentage of your income to charity each year. My religion suggests 10 per cent and what I’m spending to fix my teeth and car far exceeds that. So, why did I consider 10 per cent so much money before these tiny disasters happened?
It’s an interesting lesson in being charitable. If you don’t think you can handle giving an amount to charity, just wait a while, and see what the universe has to say about it. Using the old standby excuse: “I’m a retiree on a fixed income” doesn’t really cut it either. When unexpected expenses rear their ugly heads, we somehow find the money. Same should go for charity.
I think I’ll go write a few cheques right now.
Shelley Civkin, the retired “Face of Richmond,” was a Librarian & Communications Officer at Richmond Public Library for nearly 30 years, and author of a weekly book review column for 17 years.
