24th
March, 2013
Dear
Ms. Bowles,
I hope this finds you well.
I don’t know where to start so I’m just going to start from this
particular moment in time; tonight, in the silence of my home, I will try to
convey to you the feeling of anguish which is now a permanent feeling in my chest.
I sit here at my kitchen table, my three children asleep in
bed. My husband has wearily climbed the stairs but I know he is not asleep. I
hear him turning and know that tonight, like every night for the last number of
years, he will face another night of anguish, despair and very little rest.
I have often lain awake, pretending to be asleep, to watch
him stand in the dark looking out our bedroom window. I know why he is there. I
know that even though we are a team and discuss how to keep our heads above
water, he wakes at night desperate to try and figure out a way to protect our
family from the financial strain we are starting to find ourselves in. Seeing
the silhouette of this strong man against the night sky, burdened under this
worry and torment, is crushing. I wait until he returns to bed, turn over and
place my arm around him. This at least is some comfort to us both.
Ms. Bowles, my husband is self employed. He has always worked
very hard. We have always paid our way, never once asking for help. We never
wanted to be millionaires. Our goal was always simple; to provide for our kids,
rear them to respect themselves and others. We have been very lucky as they are
three very good, kind and fair-minded children, well-liked and respected by
their peers and adults alike.
When our kids were still babies, we built our own modest
three-bedroom house in the village where I was born and reared. We have never
lived beyond our means – we never wanted to! Spending time with our kids,
spending as much time as we could outdoors, playing traditional music and being
together, was enough. We lived very simple but happy lives, happy in the
knowledge that our kids loved their home, loved and had the love and support of
their extended family that lived close by. They loved their country and had the
ease that comes with a sense of place. They thrived in the security of being
loved and of us being a unit. However, this is being destroyed.
My children are not stupid. They are fully aware of the
strain that we are now finding ourselves in. They see that their father is
travelling further and further in search of work, they see us staying up until
the late hours pricing jobs, more often than not to no avail. They know that
for the self-employed, if you don’t work you don’t eat. We are currently just
making the mortgage. They know that we will not be able to pay the home-tax
introduced or the water-charges that are currently being discussed. You can
feel the unspoken fear that their Dad may possibly have to emigrate to find
work, of the possibility of us losing our home and having to leave everything
and everyone we know and love behind. The family unit in which they always felt
so safe is being ripped apart by emigration. The heartbreak they felt as they
had to say goodbye to their cousins, as their aunt and uncle had no choice but
to leave for America, never to return. This totals three uncles and kids gone.
Their three older cousins – all educated – are gone, with another to go
shortly. They live with the fear that they are next.
The austerity measures that have been introduced are not only
crippling and stagnating us financially, it is the sinister way that without
permission, it has invaded our home and is destroying our very souls. We have
always been a productive and positive family. We have always taught our kids to
do the right thing. It is becoming difficult to justify to the children today
why it is important to do the right thing. All they have seen is that those who
have done the right thing are being forced into debt, while those who driven by
greed and power have walked away, free to continue with the same policies of ‘too
big to fail’. They are seeing that people are no longer a priority to those who
were trusted to govern.
Ms. Bowles, I could delve a lot deeper into the profound
effect that austerity is having on my family and families like ours all over
Ireland and Europe. Sometimes when looking at a massive task, the human
consequences of decisions are far removed. I will finish this letter and after
I climb the stairs to bed and close my eyes, I will once again agonise over
what the future holds for my children.
Yours sincerely,
Mary
Kerry
