|
I was scared out of my wits recently. I'm not talking the
prickles down your spine kind of fear, but that out and out
terror that keeps you walking the floor at night, makes your
heart pound and your stomach clench. This fear has nothing to do
with the evening news, prowlers in the neighborhood or even the
latest Stephen King novel. What frightens me is I just realized
I am the head of the household!
I know, I know, I
should have reached this conclusion a little sooner, but for the
past four years I was concentrating on surviving as a single
parent. What with dealing with betrayal, separation, mediation
that didn't work, divorce, lawyers, a custody battle, relocation
and transition and counseling for my son, well, I've been more
than a little busy.
I have been so
busy putting out the daily fires that I never realized I had
suddenly become the person in charge. Oh sure, on a basic level,
I understood that I was the parent who signed the report cards,
joined the PTA, paid the bills, stood next to my son at Cub
Scout meetings and was responsible for the day-to-day living,
but until recently, I never realized the importance of the
statement, "head of the household."
It all began in a
benefits meeting at my company. Usually, I sit at these meetings
and fight to keep awake. Quite frankly, this time was no
different. I struggled to comprehend the mumbo jumbo our human
resource director was discussing about disability plans when she
suddenly slammed her set of official handbooks and said,
"What would your family do if tomorrow you were seriously
injured in a car accident? What contingencyplans do you have in
place if you fell and were out of work for a few weeks? If you
are the primary bread winner, what plans have you made to help
your family survive in the event you become disabled, either
short-termed, or long-term?"
And then it hit
me. She was talking about me. I was the primary breadwinner. I
am the head of the household. The person in charge that needs to
worry about these issues is none other than me!
That's when the
panic began. I felt sweat break out on my forehead.
I began to listen intently. My company was offering for a
cost, a buy-up plan that would enable me to receive 60 percent
of my salary for a percentage of weeks if I became disabled. If
I didn't take the buy-up plan, I would receive the basic New
York disability benefit if I became disabled, even short-termed,
which would net me around $130-a week! Multiply that by four
weeks and I don't even make my rent. Not on Long Island.
At this point,
panic became fear. I ran over my finances in my head---it took
less than ten seconds. My ex-husband sends child support (on a
schedule only he and he alone can understand) but if I became
disabled, adding that minor sum to the short-term disability
payment New York State would provide, I might be able to make my
rent, but my son and I wouldn't be eating. Not to mention there
won't be enough for all the other little amenities of life such
as a phone, the car, electricity, gas...the list goes on and on.
And
that doesn't even
cover the bothersome expenses that poke their head up every week
or so such as field trip money, birthday party gifts or
replacing clothes that my son is constantly outgrows. In the
event a bus ran me down on my lunch hour or I slipped down the
staircase on a Gameboy (in my house, a distinct possibility) I
had nothing, no contingency plan, no real savings, no short or
long-term disability plan in place. And
that's when I
became scared out of my wits. For the rest of the day, I was
frightened. I drove home fearful that someone would rear-end my
car, knock me over in the grocery store or I would slip getting
out of the shower. After getting my son to bed (and gingerly
stepping over the Gameboy), I realized it was time to think
about the future.
I know what it's
like to struggle to make ends meet. It wasn't that long ago that
I walked the floors wondering how the bills were going to be
paid, and in today's economy, I could easily find myself in that
position once again. I have no savings; no college tuition
socked away-every dollar I make goes to the business of living.
Now I understand
what my father meant by planning for that rainy day. All it
takes is another driver not paying attention, a misstep down a
flight of stairs or a freak accident to change my standard of
living from "getting by" to, "hitting rock
bottom.” It
happens all the time. I began thinking of resources I could draw
upon if I was disabled. And I started to think about contingency
plans.
Despite the extra
money it took from my paycheck, I took my company's buy-up plan.
I also hope in the future to buy more insurance from an outside
source to supplement anything my company would provide.
Financially it's not in the cards right now, but trust me, it's
on my to-do list.
For a single
parent, creating a viable contingency plan in the event you are
hurt or disabled, even short-term, should go right on the top of
your to-do list. Now. Today.
I know how
difficult it is to even find one extra minute in the day, but if
you're now the head of your household you need to plan. If you
don't have savings and your job is all there is standing between
you and disaster, you need to plan. Hopefully you won't ever
need to put the plan into action, but at least it will be there
in case of emergency.
There is no
shortage of information. While it's not my place to recommend a
specific plan, it's not hard to find a wealth of pertinent
information on the Internet. If you don't have a computer, grab
a phonebook. Think about resources and organizations that can
help you if you should be injured. Explore your options.
Check our your church, synagogue or community centers.
Look into outreach programs and insurance plans. Think about
what groups can assist you if you are disabled, even
short-termed. Can you count on your ex to lend a hand? What
about family members? What about friends?
In the event of a crisis, would you need to consider
state assistance? Do you even know where the nearest office is?
Am I pushing the
panic button? You bet I am! I have to. I am the head of the
household now and a ten-year-old boy is depending on me that
each day of his life will go along pretty much like the day
before.
And with a little
planning and a lot of prayer, if a rainy day should come our
way, we'll stay relatively dry.
©
2001 Patricia S. Brucato
Editors Note:
Pat Brucato lives and works in Nassau County.
She is a freelance writer and works full-time as the
Senior Manager of internal communications at 1-800-FLOWERS.COM.
She is a former member of the Village Parenting Center of
Huntington, (VPC) an affiliate of NAMC.
Pat became a member of the VPC when her son T.J. was
nine-months old. She
created that organization’s first Working Mother’s Support
Group. Her son T.J.
is her pride and joy and is now age 10, and in the fourth grade.
LIWomen.com, Pat
Brucato and the National Association of Mothers’ Centers
welcomes comments. Email
feedback@liwomen.com
|
