"There is only one class in the community that thinks more about money than the rich, and that is the poor. The poor can think of nothing else."
I don't have a lot of time to write because we're finishing up loading the truck and cleaning the house. Leaving New Hampshire is heart-wrenching even though we're going back to Cape Cod, my favorite place on earth.
One thought has been consuming me as I've been studying the lives of Thomas and Hannah Earles' children. I'll get back to studying more about Miles Earles, the next in line of their 11 children to get a story. But, for now, an observation:
Some say money is the root of all evil.
Some say money can't buy happiness.
I say money is whatever you think it is until you don't have any. And then you know how important it is to keep you housed, clothed and fed, and give you hope for an education of any kind.
Money buys you freedom from discomfort.
The Earles children, so far without exception, worked very hard to provide for their families. The boys all married younger women late in life and died relatively young. From what I can see so far, their families were left fatherless but comfortable. The widows never list an occupation on any census record. And unless she moved to be with family, she stayed in the same house that she'd lived in before her husband died.
Bits and pieces of family stories are starting to make sense as the puzzle pieces are put into place. I remember talking to my dad about his mother Evelyn and some mine she owned with her sister, Elizabeth. Now I read about Michael and Miles both being involved in mining (as well as lumber) and wonder if when Evelyn's father Michael died her uncle Miles provided for the family by investing in the mine for his nieces' sake.
I'm seeing patterns, comforting ones, of how families, at least this one, took care of each other. There seems to be a calmness as I study their lives. I see how they lived, what they did, and what was going on in their lives when they died. But as traumatic as a death is and the upheaval and temporary chaos it can create, there still seems to be peace in this family. There's a palpable "flow" to their lives.
Money bought part of that for them.
When I catch myself wondering if that's true I think back on times in my life that money would have smoothed the way for grief to be "enjoyed" fully.
Money is symbolic, of course. Today it feels like there was a perfect balance between men living their passions and providing for their families' comfort while living and after they passed.
Just something to think about while driving home!