You never know the meaning of money until it's in short supply.

I remember the shock I felt one day. We'd been paying our basic bills on credit, a while after Dad lost his job.

So that day I overheard a girl talk about a great deal she found at a salon where she had French nails done.

"It only cost $20," she said to another girl, who seemed impressed.

My jaw hit the floor because at that time $20 was a fortune to my family. It could've bought healthy groceries, or gas for our car, or heat for our home. (One winter we kept the heat so low, our house felt like a fridge.)

Since then I've learned how easily we middle-class folk throw our money into non-essentials while others quietly exist in want.

I want to be more mindful of how I use my money and what it's value really is. What's pocket change to us might mean the world to another family who's fallen into hard times.

So I've tried to change my spending habits, and sort of see them in the bigger picture. I ask myself twice if I really need the item, or whether the 'sale' is really a good deal after all.

And I'll never look at a $20 bill the same way again.

Early onset dementia (EOD) puts its victims and their caregivers into predicaments most of society doesn't expect or understand. Because of this, EOD easily and often threatens to bring poverty to families in the prime of life. (This is the last thing families need, when they're already dealing with a myriad of losses and challenges, such as shock, grief, and the gazillion-and-one responsibilities of caregiving.) Let me illustrate with a story: A couple years ago when I talked with community organizations who supposedly deal with patients living with dementia, I explained that Dad didn't understand the need for someone to stay with him during the day while the rest of us could go to work and school (I was in a full-time masters program at the time). I also explained that he physically walks out of day programs and that one of us had to skip work/school to stay at home with him. I said that we were desperate for a solution so that we wouldn't lose our livelihood.

These community organizations responded, saying they had no way to help us, and then they said, "Do your parents have a church or family in town?"

Well, when I explained our difficult situation to our relatives and my parents' church, their response was, "We can't help you. Have you talked with the government?"

When I spoke with our social worker, she said, "Well, we can't conjure up a solution out of thin air. We can't help you."

And that was it... Either Mom faced losing her job or I was going to put off my studies (with no way of paying off student loans) so that one of us could stay at home with Dad full time. We had no clue what the future would hold, but we knew we'd probably end up in debt and in trouble. It felt like we were drowning, and most people around us had no clue, because they didn't know what this kind of drowning looks like so they didn't recognize it in us. And when I tried to explain to relatives and church members just how desperate we were, some of them got defensive and attacked ME.

However, a few extraordinary families and churches (not my parents' church so much) helped us bridge that gap. They threw us a life-preserver in a very dark and hopeless situation. Because of them I was able to finish school, and we were able to move to a new place where our whole family lived under one roof and all of us kids pooled our resources so that Mom wouldn't have to work and could stay home with Dad.

Oh, the lack of understanding in our whole society about what dementia is really like for its victims and their caregivers is absolutely stunning. I feel grieved at how under-prepared society really is for the increase in Alzheimer's/dementia diagnoses that will come our way as the Baby Boomers age.

But on a much brighter note, the incredible generosity in the hearts of those who reached out with help for us is even more stunning. I feel encouraged that with compassion and sensitivity from people like this, there is still some hope for future dementia sufferers and their families.

"Find out how much God has given you and from it take what you need; the remainder is needed by others." — Saint Augustine

There's no doubt each of us defines "need" differently, but Saint Augustine's sentiment can still inspire us to reconsider our 'needs' and 'wants' from day to day. An old conversation about money was recently revived at an online community at which I'm a member, which forced me to further evaluate my take on the matter. The member who originally started the topic wrote:

how & what did your parents teach you about the value of money?

My parents taught me to be responsible, not to put something on credit if we can't already afford it (that's assuming one isn't in a desperate situation with no other option), to treat ourselves once in a while without going overboard, to keep the cheque-book balanced and to pay bills on time, that extravagance is waste (i.e. *our* definition of extravagance, which is still very subjective), to tithe regularly, to be generous in helping others while saving for the future... My Grandpa actually taught me that last point by example too - he owned his own business for many years, and as a result he would often pay people above and beyond their fee for services (i.e. if they did a great job) and did on occasion offer someone a job specifically because he knew that person was in need. :)

However, through my parents' situation of long-term illness and subsequent unemployment over the last three years I've learned a whole *new* batch of lessons about money, possessions, and materialism. It's a new time of growth for me, because it's really the first time I've taken a good, long look at my beliefs on this. My family has recently learned to live without many things that we used to take for granted (e.g. cable tv, vacations and travelling, heat to keep us warm during Canadian winters, renting movies, expensive groceries like cheese and honey, new CDs, going to theatres, eating out at restaurants, and more). Sometimes we weren't able to pay our monthly bills, and during those dark days I had times where I felt as though I was drowning or almost as if I was being squeezed and was running out of oxygen. Very frightening at times. :(

Meanwhile, we heard how wealthier Christians were spending their money and I wondered: If they could just be happy with what they already have, pass up buying that next new whatever, and gift those savings to my parents instead... they have no idea how they could reduce my family's anxiety, restless nights, and tears.

I've been forced to face my own views on spending, and have slowly come to the decision to live with less - not to feel morally superior, but to prevent others from feeling as though they're drowning or running out of air in a situation they cannot escape on their own. Unfortunately these thoughts have taken a long time for me to learn, but I'm glad to have the chance to learn them at all!

Back to the original question, the same member asked us:

how do you view:
money - in general,
opportunities in which much money is earned,
ambition...what's healthy?

Considering everything I've learned over the years, especially through the hand my family has recently been dealt, my answer would have to be:

a) money is a gift and a tool we've been given, which is to be used wisely

b) opportunities to earn money - great! go for it! work hard, earn the big bucks (Schillings, Pounds, Euros, Yen, or whatever the case may be), take what you need, as St. Augustine wrote, and be generous with the rest

c) regarding ambition, if God gives us skills, knowledge, and opportunities to use them - then go for it! Dedicate them to work and to *other* pursuits as well (e.g. volunteering), and keep Love as the primary motivation behind it all.