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The thought came into my mind the other morning when drinking coffee in the sunroom. Over the years have you ever prevaricated or had doubts about spending money on specific things, then with the gift of hindsight realised it was a great use of your hard earned cash?
The sunroom in question very nearly didn’t happen. My wife Suzie and I had closed on an old two bedroom house. We could see past the surface state and knew the plot had massive potential for refurbishment and expansion into a great home.
Six months later, with the end of the project in sight and with a considerable amount of cash sunk into the refurbishment, the contractor floated the idea of knocking out another wall and building a large sunroom overlooking the large mature garden. Cash was tight and it would be a considerable extra expense, but after a lot of thought we went ahead. The last minute addition is now the heart and most used space in the whole house.
I don’t have to stretch my memory that hard to find other occasions when doubt and reluctance over purchases have in retrospect been wonderful uses of money. When younger I anguished over taking three months unpaid leave to hike around Australia and parts of South East Asia with my wife Suzie.
The loss of earnings and depletion of savings turned into one of the best experiences imaginable. Unique memories, like trying to hurry a comfort break in the Australian outback when I noticed a twenty foot snake wrapped around the roof beam above my head. Or dining in a pagoda in Java during a tropical rain storm when thousands of bullfrogs unearthed themselves for breeding during the rains. They hopped through the wall-less restaurant looking for frog romance. That money bought us an irreplaceable shared history.
And finally, there’s the memory that surfaces every December: the Lapland Christmas trip. When the kids were still young enough for the magic to be real, we agonized over splurging on a trip for them to go snowboarding and, of course, visit Santa. The expense felt reckless. It was the cost of a new car just for ten days of snow and childhood make-believe.
But that trip wasn’t just a vacation; it was the purchase of a family myth. The memory of learning to snowboard together, the moment we all lay down to make snow angels under the aurora borealis while still clutching ice creams bought two hours earlier—because we knew they’d never melt—and the sight of their faces meeting the “real” Santa, the sheer joy of it all remains vivid. Now that they’re adults, the stories and the photos come out every year. The money is long gone, but the lasting emotional bond and the family legacy we created is priceless.
So now when I’m faced with a decision that makes me hesitate—not because it’s reckless, but because it stretches the budget or disrupts the plan, I try to ask myself a different question. Not “can I afford this?” but “will I regret not doing this?”
The three examples we almost didn’t spend money on—the sunroom, the travel, and the family trip—represent the three pillars of a well-lived life: Comfort, Experience, and Connection. More often than not, the things we agonise over spending money on turn out to be the things we treasure most. Sometimes the best decisions are the ones that almost didn’t happen.
As soon as I finish faffing about in Philly, I’m going to begin my future best selling book; Crotherisms. “Not can I afford this?, but will I regret not doing this?”Truly another gem, Mark.
It was 1988, my daughters, 13 and 7, were involved in community theater in Toledo. I love my home town, still, it’s not exactly the land of opportunity for aspiring actors and actresses. Somehow we found out that Les Miz was holding auditions for the role of Young Cosette in New York. Our finances were precarious, a thousand mile round trip with a night’s stay in Manhattan was not in the budget. I also knew that competition for the part would be intense. I did not want to do it. Very much to her credit, my ex-wife’s persistence carried the day, and we were off to NYC.
At the audition, my young daughter sang a song. They thanked her, telling us that they’d be in touch. Right.
Two weeks later they were indeed in touch, asking us to come back in for another look. Off we went for another trip we could not afford. After the second audition, they told us not to cut her waist length hair, and that they would be in touch. Great.
Several weeks had passed when they called to inform us that my daughter got the job. That began a year of acting which took us to Chicago, Detroit, Baltimore, and Boston. It was an amazing year that we will never forget. The cherry on top was that the wages she earned contributed greatly towards her college education.
“… the three pillars of a well-lived life:
Comfort, Experience, and Connection.”
Notice that no specific dollar amount is associated with these, so the concept can direct actions within almost any budget with a bit of foresight and imagination.
As the parent of young adults (the youngest still a teen but living independently), I will be sharing this guiding vision. I think it will help them as they figure out how to splurge (modestly) on hobbies and time with friends while also growing their savings (slowly at their age).
Meanwhile, your post is heartening personally as I’m off my initially targeted spending for the year, paying for major work at my house. We are replacing a 94-year-old garage (recent inhabitants have been a rotating band of opossums, rats, mice, and spiders), and repairing a 60-ish-year-old in-ground pool and deck. All of which could most charitably have been described as “dilapidated”. Dilapidated is not crisis spending, or even necessary, but nobody wants to have their evening coffee in the twilight and see rats running around the property. In the middle of it now but I see a bright light in the distance… Hope it’s not an oncoming train.
: )
Great post, Mark. You bring back memories of those struggles of spending vs. saving when we lived paycheck to paycheck.
I am so thankful that we always decided to spend on improving the house. We built a screened-in porch, and while it seemed a somewhat frivolous expense at the time, we now spend nearly every morning and evening out there. So many delightful conversations and glasses of wine shared with friends and family, too. We can’t imagine not having it.
Re. travel: When our kids were young, we took our first international trip to Panama. Because of that formative trip, our kids were inspired to travel. In fact, my wife and I are a tad jealous of them. They have been to more places in the world than we have. Still, our kids point back to that first trip in their formative years as the impetus for their adventures. And, in turn, now they inspire us.
Because we live in different parts of the United States, one family practice we started was to pick a city to travel to (domestic or international), and explore that city/area together. What memories we have created over the years! Now that we are retired, I hope to help fund more of those trips.
You’re hitting on the thing that marks the biggest transition in retirement – changing from a saver to a spender (or as I’ve head it described scarcity mindset to abundance mindset). And the idea that what we spend on relationships and memories is worth so much more than just stuff. I wouldn’t call your sunroom stuff, unless you were to have constructed not as a practical living space but something to show off to others – on the other hand I sometimes think some home improvements like a kitchen makeover every 5 years are “stuff”.
I suspect we all need a balance – your Lapland holiday probably wouldn’t have been as special if you took kids to Disneyworld and ski holidays every year, your sabbatical travels not as special if you did a long haul month every year. So it’s probably not wise to burn out on full tilt pursuit of exceptional experiences throughout early retirement. We probably all need some “boring” everyday stuff to enjoy also.
Totally agree! Sometimes I think too many people on HD split their lives in half. The first is all about working and saving; the second half is devoted to pleasure and spending. My husband and I took a more balanced approach. We did do some earlier spending— family room addition, trip to Disney when the kids were young enough to thoroughly enjoy it, etc. I wish we had known about the Lapland adventure; we might have done that too!!