How the Concept of “Mad Money” Forged a Decades Long Friendship…
We’d first met in person in the weeks before 9-11. Suzanne and my stepson, Nick had been married the year before and baby Melissa arrived a year to the day later. It was 2000 and international communication could be slow and awkward. There were faxes sent and cards mailed back and forth, and the occasional phone call where the minutes were carefully watched so no one would go over their budget.
I finally made the trip in August of 2001. Nick and Suzanne were living in a tiny two-bedroom apartment and I slept on a soft pile of blankets on the floor in the living room to be able to afford the trip. It also gave me the chance to spend time with them and the baby. Suzanne was quiet but kind. It would be two days before I realized that her English was perfect and she was a natural with her mothering skills. Five days later I was on my way back to the States and it was less than two weeks later when 9-11 occurred.
By Christmas they had decided to separate. The divorce soon followed. A year passed. The baby I had wanted to get to know personally was growing up without knowing me at all. Nick let me know that Suzanne had met someone new and was engaged to be married. I sent her a card and she called me on the phone to thank me. Her voice and words told me that we had made a connection and I was determined to keep it moving forward.
In the summer of 2003, I was ready to cross the pond for only the second time. Nick was living with a new girlfriend who wasn’t exactly thrilled to have his American stepmother descend upon them for the next ten days. In retrospect, I should have budgeted to stay in a hotel nearby, but I honestly hadn’t thought about it.
On the drive home from the airport, Nick asked me if I wanted to see Melissa while I was there. Yes, I told him and I picked up on the fact that he was asking me this while we were alone. He was quiet for what seemed like an eternity, and then casually mentioned that Martha, the girlfriend was jealous of his relationship with Suzanne and his daughter. I took this in but didn’t comment at the time.
My time with them was uncomfortable in many ways. Nick was on edge while she was present. Martha didn’t smile and did not make eye contact with me, or with anyone, for that matter. The conversations we did have gave me hope, but that was always crushed when something would be said that would lead to Nick and I both being given the silent treatment.
On the ninth day of my visit, Nick whispered to me that Suzanne would be dropping Melissa off that afternoon. I was overjoyed, but when I began to talk a bit faster and appear more animated, he quickly motioned for me to tone it down. This was going to take some strategic planning if I was to make the most of the brief time I would have with Suzanne, her husband Matt, and their baby, Sarah.
I decided to wait downstairs so I could see their car approaching. It was June, but there was a chill in the air. I focused on what I wanted to say and do during our short window of time together. I’d brought a gift for the baby, but nothing for Suzanne. Then I had an idea.
The gold Volvo slowed down as it turned the corner onto our street. I smiled and waved but couldn’t yet see if anyone was smiling or waving back at me. Then I saw a small hand extend part-way out the window and I knew it was Melissa. She was three now and I was so excited to see her again.
They parked along the side of the garage and Suzanne was the first one out of the car. She was smiling, but it was a guarded smile, as if she wanted to make sure it was alright to show more emotion. Then she took Melissa by the hand and they came closer to me.
“Suzanne, you look so beautiful! Melissa, you’re so big. A big, beautiful girl!”
Melissa hugged me first. “I love Winnie the Pooh. And I love you.” She looked at her shoes when she spoke and I moved in a little closer and gave her a gently but meaningful hug. “I love you, Melissa. And your mother.”
“Connie, do you want to see the baby?”
With this, she opened the door to the back seat. Matt got out of the car simultaneously and came over to shake my hand. As our fingers touched, we both leaned in for a hug.
He motioned to the back seat. In a small carrier, the most delicate creature emerged. First a head and then shoulders appeared and I heard a giggle.
“This is our daughter, Sarah. She is Melissa’s sister.”
I was speechless. Baby Sarah looked just like Melissa had looked at her age, when I had first visited two years earlier. I found my voice and then the words fell out in a slow, careful order.
“She is beautiful. You are all so beautiful to me. My beautiful girls. My three beautiful girls.” There was soft laughter, followed by tears that formed the shape of teardrops as they fell upon our cheeks. In that moment, we were in a bubble of our own creation, and nothing else mattered.
“I have something for you.” I handed her a small white paper bag and she took it from my hands.
Suzanne sat back down in the car and I watched as she carefully opened the bag. She took out the tiny shirt with a mother and baby giraffe on the front. It would fit Sarah in the coming months. The soft material was the perfect weight for the fall weather that would soon be upon them. She thanked me and I motioned for her to look in the bag again. Out came a stuffed animal. And then a second one, but smaller.
“It’s Tigger! And Roo!” Melissa exclaimed. “Tigger is for me and Roo is for Sarah. Winnie the Pooh will be happy. Thank you!”
She gave me a real hug this time and I just smiled and nodded. Then I looked back at Suzanne and she knew there was one last thing in the bag. She couldn’t feel the bottom, so she turned the bag over and allowed the contents to fall gently onto the seat.
“What is it?” Melissa asked. Matt made his way to the area behind the car and lit a cigarette. He was giving us time to be alone.
“Mad money.”
She was holding up the 10 Euro note I had tucked into the bag at the last moment. The Euro had just been introduced the previous year and was drawing attention. I self-consciously looked up to see if Nick and Martha were looking down at us. They weren’t, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. This was too personal to share with anyone else.
“Mad money?” She was puzzled and I leaned in closer to explain.
My mother had introduced me to this concept of mad money back in the early 1960s when I was a little girl. There are many stories around this, but I’ll save them for another day.
“It’s money just because. You can save it or spend it, but it’s intended to be used for something fun. When you do finally spend it, I want you to think of me and the love I have for you and your family, Suzanne. Okay?”
She smiled at me in a way that I will never forget. That smile spoke volumes and moved mountains over the years. All these years later, Suzanne and I have a close relationship, unlike anything either of us has ever experienced with anyone else.
I’m Connie Ragen Green, spreading kindness and joy throughout the world, as well as some well-placed mad money that will come in handy at just the right moment for the recipient.
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