Image is a photo taken by me of the letter
A letter from the past
A letter wears a jacket that hides its form. You’ve got to open the jacket to reveal the nature of that form; good tidings or bad. Sometimes it’s a bit of both. My good-bad letter was from my father; he was working away from home and had been feeling unwell. The letter he sent to my mom was full of sweet words for my brother and I, but my mom often says, in retrospect, that the letter was a premonition moment; the first time she thought she might lose the man she loved. The reason: he explained in that letter that he’d tried to get life insurance, but had been declined because of the state of his health.
My father was an unusual, dynamic man who, despite his health issues, built an advertising empire during his short lifetime; he died when I was thirteen-years-old. He was only forty-two.
Unfortunately, for my mom, his death brought not only incredible sorrow, but debt. My mom had a huge house to upkeep, innumerable servants, two young children, both of whom were in private schools, and two aging parents to care for; she was a housewife, with limited knowledge of the business-world at large.
My mom took stock of the situation; I remember sitting at the dining room table with her sorting through endless documents, none of which made any sense other than to say that we had absolutely no money. My grandparents lived next door to us; my grandfather ran a construction business that, although eventually successfully, was going through difficult times. My grandmother was a seamstress, who made wedding dresses for upmarket clients, but it was really a sideline to her housekeeping, a tiny enterprise. Both my grandparents relied, as we did, on my father’s income.
I grew up very quickly in those months. My mother and I brainstormed; what could we do? My grandmother came up with the idea of opening a fashion enterprise. My mom had always been interested in fashion; it was part of her function as an executive’s wife to look good at all the events she attended at my father’s side. Anyway, my sneaky grandmother had been doing a lot more than just thinking. She had a shop picked out, had already approached the owners about a lease and priced all the fittings we’d need for the enterprise, including a till. But where was the money going to come from for this harebrained venture?
Planning took over our lives. It deflected our pain and became ridiculously exciting. My mom sold her car, which was the only paid-for asset we owned, and used the funds to secure a lease on the high-street; a perfect location in an affluent suburb. Of course, the funds were horrendously insufficient to set up a business, but we forged ahead. My grandfather built all the rails, racks, constructed two fitting rooms, erected a bright red and white striped awning over the display windows and painted the shop. We were ready…but we had no stock. (Haha! how could we have been so innocent?)
It was August, which is a very cold month in South Africa. It’s also the worst possible month to open a fashion enterprise because of the seasonal nature of the merchandise. My mom found a few manufacturers willing to supply, and bought a few coats and beautifully embroidered jerseys, which were surprisingly inexpensive. Little did she know that this was the worst decision ever; fashion stores stock summer clothing from July, all winter clothing goes on sale in July!
We opened the doors with a few, sparse hangers blowing, forlornly on the August gusts that flurried through the widely welcoming door. To add woe to the situation, my grandmother contracted a mystery illness and became critically ill. As it turned out it wasn’t a virus, she was on warfarin for her blood viscosity and had taken too many tablets, accidentally rupturing her stomach muscles. This took care of the balance of my mom’s funds. Things were very, very bleak.
Then luck found us…
I came home from school one bright day and my mom was nowhere to be found. I went into her room looking for her; her usually impeccably neat bedroom looked as if it’d been hit by a bomb; cupboard doors hanging open, everything gone, leaving a disarray of hangers in a jumble on the floor. I knew that she must’ve gone up to the shop, so I walked there to find her. On arrival, my jaw dropped; hanging in the cabinets were all my mom’s clothes, and people were in the store, BUYING!
I cannot begin to tell you the level of our celebrations; it was very, very fun.
Both my grandmother and my mom quickly learned the ropes and the shop became a renowned fashion venture, frequently featured in fashion magazines. The business paid for everything; private schooling for both my brother and I, a new house to live in after our house (and furniture) were auctioned to pay my father’s debts.
...and, of course, she also bought a new car!
This is absolutely splendid and gut-wrenching, @itsostylish. For goodness sakes, how many highs and lows can one small family take? You really had a wild roller coaster ride of a childhood! I'm sorry you lost your dad so young. That must have been so very hard. But I'm amazed at how you all stuck together to find a way to forge ahead, and you came out on top!
I truly love this creative nonfiction initiative. What a great opportunity to get to know people better. I've just learned a thing or two about what makes you so amazing and resilient!
🤗💕❤️🤗🤗
What do they say about giving up? That phrase is not in your family's vocabulary. I think the two of you would have sold your hair, if that's what it took.
I'm not surprised. I've come to know you and there is steel in them there bones. Lovely, resilient, giving steel.
A great essay. As @jayna commented, we are all getting to know each other.
We are all getting to know each other. It’s awesome 🤗😘💕❤️🥰🥰🥰🥰🙃😊🤔
Wow.
Your story is a true success story. Having the support of family in trying times is the best thing. It's really amazing you all were able to put heads together to move forward.
Oh, you are such a sweetheart. Thanks 4 reading 🤗🥰😘🤗🥰😘❤️💕
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Yay! 🤗
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Thank you @grindan
I love your mom took charge of the whole situation. I know how much the death of the loved one can take a toll on a person but I'm glad she didn't let that come in the way of taking care of two kids. She's super
Yes, she is 🤗💕
The loss of a loved one already feels like a rug pulled out from under your feet, such enormous waves of grief... when you couple that with financial difficulties because of insurance rejection... ugh. What a huge batch of challenges to carry on your back, with your best foot forward! Your family sounds resilient and dynamic, just like you describe your father 💕 I bet if he could see you, he was so proud of what you achieved together to make it work! Thank you for sharing part of your journey with us- and now we all know why @itsostylish is such a perfect name to describe a super lady!🤩
Thank you @grindan, but, actually, Itsostylish is just the name of my website
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Your story is not only touching but inspiring, in the sense that life may appear bleak today but with determination and some hope, it will be better tomorrow. I admire your mom. She's a brave woman like most mothers. ♥️
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What a good story! And the most remarkable thing about it is that it actually happened. During the hardship of such an experience, no one who feels his own existence is secure wants to trade. Yet, in retrospect, it is always the best life narratives that mark something very significant, namely the will to help oneself. The complete absence of what modern man does when he has no income is to "get a job", that is, to get work from others. Whereas the entrepreneur is someone who seeks to realise his own business. The small businesses in the midst of the big ones give any environment the liveliness that everyone looks for, but few dare to undertake. In today's world, this is all the more difficult because of the various requirements one has to fulfil as a self-employed person. I regret this very much and sometimes - nostalgically - wish for the old days back, when doing business on one's own was less bureaucratic. But maybe that's just my imagination, who knows.
You describe the mistakes made in a realistic way, the naivety with which your mother approached the matter, all the more wonderful that it still worked out. The family itself seems to have had a long tradition of entrepreneurship. That rubs off on the coming generations and one can feel it in you, too, the own and the independent.
Those things that were difficult, exhausting, nerve-wracking, felt unfortunate at the moment of happening, are worth telling because hindsight has something to convey. Those who have once been in mortal danger, rescued or saved themselves have come out of it with their skins intact. Until the next adventure and point of despair. Life never stands still.
Thank you for sharing and I'll be happy to read more anytime. Re-blogged.
So sorry the lost of your dad.. Often we think everything is over until something unexpected happens. Am glad a way came through for your family..
Gosh this reads like a fairy tale! It's a rags to riches story all the more poignant because it's real life. You capture the despair and worry of being penniless and the joy of success through hard work. I'm right there with you and your Mum. Loved this.
I love how everything turned out. This is a great lesson about patience and perseverance. Your mother has my respect and praise. Thank you for sharing this story. Someday, I also want to be someone who could say "I endured it all and I succeeded".