By the time the late Cornelius Davids arrived, the church was packed to the brim. I am sure there was over 300 close friends and family who attended the service at the NG Church in Bellville South.
The irony once again, he was late(no pun intended), everyone was waiting at the graveyard for his body to arrive. I am sure he found that hillarious and boasting in the fact that he proved to everyone that he was still the life of the party and his “un”- present presence will always be missed.
When they lowered his body into the hole, the reality again, kicked me while I was already down. Now, he enters the city four squared where his presence is awaited. Seems he was demanded everywhere he went. My mom died along with my dad on the day we buried him; and her presence became “un”- present too. The ripple effect of his death was devastating.
The empty right side of my parent’s bed, the absent roses in the garden, the empty feeling of content, the missing daily snicker and that sadness of an unfinished puzzle. I did not understand the decision of the disruption of a once complete puzzle. It felt as if I was snatched away from my fairytale and plagued with the feeling I thought I had prior to his passing, of his “un”- present presence, this time it became my reality.
My dad ensured that we were well taken care of, financially that is. This in it’s own right was a good thing; as my dad was all about empowering yourself with knowledge, which is a trait he has “genetically” passed on to me; definitely the reason why I am so career driven, repeatedly pushing myself to achieve anything I have failed at, numerous times.
In total, my dad left us with almost R2million, of which R500k had to go to my brother from another mother; I loved my brother and still do, after all he is my blood.
Back then, in ’97, R2million was a good sum of money; and if managed and invested properly, it would have set us, meaning my brothers and I, up for a quality education resulting in better career choices.
All this spun out of control once the eyes got bigger than the amount. It started with simple unnecessary expenses and borrowing money to almost everyone that asked.
My mom hated being left out and unaccepted, more than she actually hated saying no. It was more important to her to be accepted by outside people; than ensuring that we were looked after.
Although I have not mentioned it, this gave context to me as to why my dad and mom were always bickering about money, my mom tended to buy furniture and all kinds of other items to be noticed, where he on the other hand loved the simple life and never did things to impress anyone, no matter who you were.
When you are flying high, without any cognitive of managing finances, you end up falling very hard with no protection, support or safety net.
Whether we realize it or not, how we are raised has a tremendous impact on how we make financial decisions as adults.
Sometimes the results are positive, but other times the results are detrimental and disastrous to our well-being, especially when it comes to our financial health and unfavourable circumstances.
There was an emotional connection and an attachment to money, no money no smile. More money more laughter, which was unhealthy and there was no attempt to keep it a secret. No budget, no financial goals, no investment opportunity research and no thought was given to saving any of it.
“More money, more problems”, is an understatement for what took place when money became the centre of attention; and little did we know how the “un”- present money management skills and exorbitant spending habits would disadvantage us as children into adulthood, as this became our habitual nature; not being taught the fundamental details of managing finances, it soon became our way of life.