Glued Together

With faded grey skies and drops of rain, I venture out into the morning to run errands and shop. But despite the lack of traffic on the highway it seems everyone was parked at the $1.25+ store to buy groceries. Considering the middle class struggle to spend $200 to $400 a week on food. We currently survive on $400 a month for a family of three. And given that I live with a special needs individual with a very specific diet. Calling it challenging to feed him is an understatement.

But we survive as most poverty level Americans do living on half a pound of protein a day and as many fresh ingredients as I can afford. Most of my cooking consists of one pot meals. Experimenting with as many combinations of spices as I can remember from my Grandmothers. One raised five children on a sharecroppers farm during the depression, while the other raised four children on ration stamps during World War Two. My own four children remember all too well living on one pot meals with little meat and a whole lot of imagination. I assume it’s the trauma and shame of living on food stamps and free lunches that drive them to be as successful as they are today.

Today, Saturday, December 6, 2025, is the 38th anniversary of me and my wife. A day we were forced to wed due to the fact that my bride was six months pregnant at the time. (The family couldn’t have the shame of us having a baby born out of wedlock…. Seriously). So we settled in a tiny two bedroom trailer between my family and my wife’s family. We’ve had many ups and downs, moments that forever scarred our kids, and regrets by the truckload. But we are still here, after nearly 40 years. Not out of obligation. But out of love. I’m sure our kids would find that a difficult statement to swallow. Given the struggles they endured. And while many will say I held this disaster together with duct tape and string. It was my bride with her limitations, but an immeasurable love that kept things glued together.