My mom told me she just got a new iPhone from T-Mobile. This is her 3rd new iPhone in 3 years and she’s not a techie-nerd. She’s retired and uses her phone for calls, texting, Facebook, Words with Friends and watching TV.
I asked her why she got a new phone since her old one was less than a year old and she said, “It was free!”.
I wasn’t going to argue with her, but there is no “free” when it comes to cell phones – or anything else for that matter.
There’s always a price to be paid.
I looked into the offer. She get’s a “free phone” by signing up for 24 months of service at more than twice the price I pay for my cell plan. If she cancels before 24 months, she has to pay the prorated difference for the phone.
In other words, she bought the “free phone” in 24 installment payments of $30 (plus the value of her 10 month old phone she is trading in.)
My mom likes to buy stuff. She’s the opposite of me. She gets pleasure from purchasing and owning items that she often will never use.
I can remember when I used to do this – buying books, clothing, furniture, tools and other crap while cramming my garage, attic and basement with boxes of stuff I didn’t even remember I had.
Relocating a bunch of times combined with embracing a frugal, anti-consumer way of life cured me of that long ago.
Every choice we make comes with a cost.
Sometimes it’s a straightforward cost – like the purchase price of an item.
Sometimes it’s the cost of ownership – maintaining the house, paying taxes, servicing the car.
Sometimes it’s the loss of other choices we could have made.
I’ve been thinking the loss of other choices “cost” a lot lately.
I committed to my wife when I was 21. She was 39, recently separated and had two children. I have never regretted this decision.
But I didn’t realize what I was giving up by making it.
I gave up my 20s and 30s. Instead of being like my peers who were figuring out their way, hanging with friends, going to college and establishing careers I became a full-time stepfather and a husband.
By marrying my wife, I didn’t only commit to her. I committed to a relationship with her kids. That was fine. I embraced this.
I also committed to a relationship with her ex- husband. That was not what I expected. I would have never chosen to have a relationship with someone like him.
I also naively disregarded our age difference. It never occurred to me that my wife would have numerous serious health issues for half of our marriage. And I certainly didn’t expect her to die and leave me alone when I was 50.
I listen to a lot of podcasts. Many of the guests are Millennials and Gen-Zers who are in their 20s and 30s. When they talk about their lives, I realize that I missed out on two decades of experience.
I also realize that it was worth it.
I loved my wife. Much of our time together was wonderful. Even the hard times drew us closer together.
I made a choice a long time ago. I don’t regret it.
With the benefit of hindsight, I wouldn’t make that choice today at 54. I’ve had the love of my life. I’ve had a family. I helped raise two kids.
All of that is done for me.
There’s no way I’ll be doing it again.
And that choice too comes with a cost.