Told by Jacquelyne Froeber and Noelys Mendez
August 14th is the National Financial Awareness Day.
I grew up in Cuba, in a traditional Cuban home in the countryside.
My father was the breadwinner for the family. He worked hard on a small farm we owned and took care of all of our finances. My mother also worked incredibly hard to make sure we had everything we needed. She would take the money my father gave her and magically find food, cleaning supplies, clothing, etc., which was a full-time job considering where we lived.
Life moved at a slow pace in our small town, but when I turned 19, I fell in love and things started moving very quickly. I moved from my family home to married life and got pregnant shortly after the wedding. Two months after I turned 20, I gave birth to a baby girl. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, and I knew I would do anything to protect her and make her happy.
Unfortunately, I was not happy in my marriage. I wanted to keep our family dream alive, but we were not right for each other, and we separated after just two years of getting married.
I was sad, but deep down, I knew it was the right thing to do. I knew we could both be happier than we were.
Still, I wondered how happy I could really be. I met the love of my life about two years after the divorce. We had an instant connection, and I knew he was the one for me.
Damian was handsome, considerate and kind. Most importantly, he treated my daughter as if she were his own.
We naturally moved into our traditional, family-oriented roles. He was the provider, and we never talked about bills or finances before or after we got married. But when I got pregnant, we started talking about moving to the United States. Cuba has its economic limitations, and we wanted our girls to have more opportunities and freedom to do what they wanted.
Osleidy and her daughter(s) and husband Damian in Cuba, 2008
In 2010, we were able to make our dream come true and moved to Florida. Damian found a full-time job as an automotive technician, and I was able to stay home with the girls.
Damian continued to take care of all the bills, the house and the cars. Everything was in his name.
Like my mother, I did all my shopping with the money he gave me. When I used a credit card, he paid the bill.
Money wasn’t tight but I never took it for granted. Damian worked a lot, sometimes nights and weekends. I felt like it was my job to help us save money so finding the best deals and bargains became my superpower. I never wanted him to think I was taking advantage of how incredibly hard he worked. Money wasn’t tight but I never took it for granted. Damian worked a lot, sometimes nights and weekends. I felt like it was my job to help us save money so finding the best deals and bargains became my superpower. I never wanted him to think I was taking advantage of his incredibly hard work.
We had 12 amazing years in the US before he was diagnosed with liver cancer in 2022. The news was an absolute shock. I told the doctor it must be a mistake. He was only 41! “Too young to have cancer,” I insisted. Plus, we had airplanes. We had a great life. We had two beautiful girls, places to go and things to do.
But the cancer didn’t care.
The disease was relentless and cruel. For the last few months, Damian remained bedridden at home, unable to work. I became his full-time nurse and quit my part-time job. There was always the hope that maybe things would turn around and he would miraculously recover. But that didn’t happen. And with no steady income, we quickly ran out of money.
I was in caretaker mode, so I pushed the looming financial problems aside. Then one day, out of the blue, it hit me. Damian wasn’t going to get better. It was all up to me now. My mother and youngest daughter were living with us. I was responsible for keeping a roof over our heads. How on earth was I going to accomplish that?
A wave of panic washed over me and I gasped for air. It was too much. “I can’t do this,” I whispered out loud. I was in mourning. I was exhausted. I didn’t have the strength to go on. I didn’t even know where to start.
But I knew who to ask. My oldest daughter was 25, and although she is married, she is in a same-sex marriage where she and her husband split the bills and property.
I didn’t want to tell him I needed help, but I had no choice. I had to step up and learn to do things for myself. For our family.
Osleidy with her mother and two daughters, 2024
With my daughter’s help, we made a plan. The first thing I did was gather all the bills and a notebook. I added up all the expenses to see how much money I was making each month. I transferred all the bills into my name and credit cards. I also had to change my lifestyle. Since my husband had a good job, I had to be realistic that when I got a job, I wasn’t going to make as much money as he did (but hopefully someday).
After Damian passed away, I took a short time to grieve and then started working full-time at a parts assembly plant. There were times when I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it. I was 45 years old entering the workforce in a new career, but I am so proud of myself and the strength that we women have, of our ability to reinvent ourselves for our family after facing life’s adversities.
I still have tough days where I struggle to even get out of bed, and all I can do is think of Damian and the long life we thought we had ahead of us. But then I remember my daughters, my mom, and my strength. And it reminds me that no matter how dark the road may seem, with effort and struggle, women become more powerful and independent every day.
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