FACT: Ends Meat is not a food…

When I was little my mother was alone with my 2 sisters and I. She went to beauty school when we were young just before the divorce. 3 little practice heads made for some pretty hilarious family photos to look back on. I had reddish blonde hair and got the first perm she gave at 3 years old, lucky me; I was called “Little orphan Annie” constantly, Thanks a lot Mom. Unfortunately though, we had no Daddy Warbucks! Our dad had moved to Arizona, he paid her support off and on and sent for us each summer to live it up in the heat to swim and eat junk for 3 months straight-dads house was the fun place. I remember during the school year my sisters had to watch me all the time, being around 5 year old I suppose I was too young to grasp what was really going on. I’m guessing hers was a 10-7 shift; she gossiped and cut hair at a chain franchise. In the mornings she would watch Donahue and I would make her coffee, I loved to make her coffee. She would get home after dark in the evenings and that’s when the storm would begin. Girls!!! She would scream. Why are there dishes everywhere? What is on the floor everywhere? Did you do what I asked? Is your homework done?! On and on she continued for a good 30 minutes, then she would say “I stand on my feet all day long trying to make Ends Meat and you girls can’t help me out around this house.” Daily she would repeat the same sentence to my sisters.
She would also stand in line for staple food boxes from the government. With the old favorite government cheese, man that stuff was good!! She would make powdered milk and pour it in the carton to try and fool us but the taste of that stuff was unable to be masked in my book - BLEH. We always had food and Mom did her damndest to make sure we had everything we needed but, I could never figure out why after she tried and tried so hard each day she was never able to make “Ends Meat”. I envisioned the rich kids who lived in the subdivisions in Eagle Hills having these lavish dinners of Ends Meat served on gold plates with sparkling cider in wine goblets. I wanted my mom to bring that Meat home someday so bad, but alas we never got anything but the same old chicken or hamburger and casseroles for days. Luckily my mom is an amazing cook so those meals were fine but we never got the fancy meat she worked so hard for. Everyday, on her feet, cutting hair for measly tips, what a shame.
It wasn’t until I was in my 20’s paying my own bills with 2 kids that I finally put 2 and 2 together and realized what it meant for Ends to Meet. I continue to struggle with making this happen and I completely feel her pain. How hard it is to tell your children “no we can not afford this or that”, choosing to pay rent or to buy groceries and pay the light bills, knowing you may not be able to purchase a home for them to grow up in. Hopefully my kids will appreciate my hard work and know that I did my best. Insert Serenity prayer here. On one hand I am glad they can get the values only learned from being raised “unspoiled”, on the other hand though, I want them to have fancy meats.