Sacrifices

When we were growing up, Dad had a little brown box bank full of coins and bills.  The coins and bills were actually very old coins that included a half dime, a silver dollar, Buffalo nickels, indian head coins, $5 dollar bills with a silver certificate or red numbers and other "prized possessions". According to Quora, the 1963 $5 bill with red numbers is now worth about $25 with the silver one worth much more than that.

Every once in a while, we would either ask him to open it up or he would open it up when he wanted to look at them and admire his cool collection.  When he came across a new coin that would be added to his collection, he would ask for the box and one of us would run to his bedroom and grab the box from his top drawer where he kept it.

Even as he was adding the new coin to the box, he would take it as an opportunity to check out his precious savings. 

Years later, after dad retired and moved down, we came across the box in the house.  We also came to find out that back in late '79, dad had sold off his collection so he can pay for a trip for us to go to Puerto Rico.  We usually took a trip to PR every 5-7 years but as our family got bigger, it became more expensive for us to go there.  It was roughly 2 years after my youngest sister Annie was born and Dad felt it was time to go back, so everybody could see the "baby".  We went back during Christmas, and it was the only Christmas I recall us spending in Puerto Rico.

We were devastated but realized that Dad had made a sacrifice of his precious collection of coins to pay for that trip.  In the end, money was money but this was not the kind of money that comes around again unless you want to purchase it from a collector in the first place.  It must have weighed heavily in his mind to do so but the desire to go to PR to visit the family was enough for him to sell his collection.  He was not saving it for a rainy day nor was he doing so just to pay for a vacation.

As I have previously written, Dad passed away last year in early 2018 and mom earlier this year.  I have finally started to go through all of the massive collection of paperwork I brought over from their house so I can keep what I need, and shred the things I don't, such as old medical bills.

As I emptied one of the boxes and folders, a little coin purse fell out containing the last bit of his collection.   It brought me back to my youth and cracking open "the safe" with him and how he loved to look at those coins.  I did not know he kept this small bunch.

This Thanksgiving was the first one without both of my parents and all I kept thinking about were the sacrifices they had made for us.  Not just about taking us to Puerto Rico to visit family, but everything they did to make sure we understood and appreciated everything they did for us.  Leaving Puerto Rico when Mom was pregnant with me, to start a new life in a strange land, not knowing the culture or anybody.  Makes us appreciate what we have, but also truly understand the desire of others to want to live the American dream.  All while still remembering where we came from.