Saturday, July 20, 2013

Reverse Embezzlement

Today is my father's yahrzeit--the anniversary of his death by the Jewish calendar. He died in 1998, so he's been gone quite a while now, but I've been thinking of this story about him, so I came here (after a long absence, I see; last post was in mid-May) to tell it. It's not really a story about him, but a story about me and about how I think/thought of him. It's not the only thing I think/thought about him (what parent-child relationship is not terribly entangled and complex?), but it is the thing I want to tell now.
When I was in my twenties, rambling from here to there, working one job and then another, not thinking much about my future or a career, not earning very much money and not really much concerned with doing so, I sometimes had a secret suspicion that my father was making secret deposits into my bank account--so secret that they never showed up on the bank statement but so consistent that I always seemed to have as much money as I needed for whatever I wanted. Granted, my needs were simple, but still . . . the money was always there in the bank account when I needed or wanted to spend it. My father was not a wealthy man, nor was I a wealthy young woman, but I had a feeling of security about money.
 My daughter was home visiting recently, and the subject of money came up. Her situation is similar to what mine was when I was that age. Her income is small, but she always has what she needs when she needs it--to the extent that it feels somewhat mysterious and inexplicable to her. I suggested that perhaps my father is carrying on the tradition . . . the reverse embezzlement, as I think of it. So skilled and crafty is he that no one has ever come up with definitive proof.

A friend of mine recently said that this is what she thinks of as faith . . . not religious, but the feeling that you'll always have what you need when you need it.


Anonymous said...

So nice to see such a beautiful story during these times. My father died July 15, 1980. He is very much present and our son is his grandfather, from looking like him to having Daddy's good traits.
Even while still resolving his tangles, he is Daddy and miss him.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and it's good to see your post again.

Rose D. Sigman

Susan Messer said...

Thanks for reading. Odd, but I didn't see this comment until today. Not sure why I didn't get the regular notice. Some oddity of the program? Don't know. Family memories are powerful things.