Commentary: Mom’s frugality lasted longer than the Great Depression

My mother was frugal, religiously so. Both she and Lee’s mother raised children during the Great Depression, and that likely had something to do with their economies.

I can’t say what thrift measures my mother-in-law carried throughout her life, but she did frequently say, “If I had a nickel for every pound of hamburger I’ve cooked, I’d be a wealthy woman.”

The best Depression-era story Lee told about his mother was that she wrapped the ice for the icebox in newspaper to make it last longer. Of course, insulating ice so it wouldn’t melt defeated its ability to keep things cold, but I suppose, with her big family, leftover meatloaf wasn’t much of an issue.

My mother took frugality way past the point that my friends’ mothers did. I learned this when I spent the night at their houses and experienced their comforts, especially toothpaste.

My friends’ families had accustomed themselves to better times after World War II, while my mom still didn’t indulge in simple luxuries.

If we were out of earshot, my sister and I referred to Mom as St. Catherine, her self-denial (albeit inflicted on us all) making her eligible for beatification.

For instance, Mom bought tooth powder rather than the more desirable, more expensive toothpaste. Also, our toilet tissue was not as soft as the cheap stuff at school. And Mom unwrapped the bar soap as soon as she brought it home from the market so it would dry out and last longer.

As I compared my creature comforts to the “deprivations” of my childhood, things began to emerge from my subconscious.

We kids added a bit of water to the small pile of powder in the palm of our hand, and it became toothpaste.

Self-indulgent me! How I’d aspired to real toothpaste! Now I buy it and pay for the water to be added.

Self-indulgent me! Not only is my toilet tissue squeezable, but one option has lotion in it.

Self-indulgent me! My bar soap is full of creams and vitamins and is wonderfully sudsy, but — though I unwrap bars of soap just like Mom did — a bar lasts only slightly longer than it takes for a banana to acquire brown spots.

So, here’s the question I asked myself as I was showering the other morning: Why is my soap so sudsy, even when it’s theoretically dry?

And here’s the answer I came up with: It’s because soap is probably infused with water — like toothpaste!

And all that softness Mr. Whipple didn’t want us to squeeze? It was air, people!

We are paying extra for virtually nothing. The inexpensive additives, which make some of today’s products “better” than the ones around when our mothers were in charge, are put into products for the purpose of causing them to be used up faster. We’re buying more often, the manufacturers are making more money, and what we get are catchy commercials, air and water.

We’re not as attentive as our mothers, and we’re surely not as frugal.

St. Catherine lived to be 100. Mother’s frugal habits paid off. One of her lifelong wishes was that she wouldn’t be a “burden to her children,” and she’d saved the money to take care of herself to the end. She didn’t drink or smoke because it cost money. She had no heart disease, no lung disease, no cancer.

She never fell for clever advertising. She stuck with Brand X soap, and she bought toilet tissue that was hard to squeeze.

If she’d also exercised, she’d probably still be alive at 108.

I’d like to note that our mother would not have been considered a burden by Carolyn or me. By burden, Mom meant she didn’t want to have to live with her children.

I’m glad Mom got her wish. The knowledge of our self-indulgent ways probably would have killed her!

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LIZ SWIERTZ NEWMAN lives in Corona del Mar.