I’m in the audience, a dozen rows back from the stage. All eyes forward as David Byrne, grey hair, greyer suit and barefeet, sings “This Must Be the Place” while his deconstructed band dances around him. It’s a beautiful song.

“Never for money, always for love … ” And isn’t this a simple truth we should all live by? When love departs, ebbing away slowly or disappearing in a flash. Where does that leave you?

A malfunction in a new steam boiler floods a bathroom and the basement. Insurance covers some of the cost of recovery. I’m left to handle the rest. A wind storm months later buckles the ceiling directly over my daughter’s bed. In my heart of hearts, I know the solution will come down to fast and cheap or do it right. There is something in me that always always refuses fast and cheap. I can’t pass along problems to someone else at some future date like an unexpected and unwelcome present. The carpenters I hire fix the immediate problem and then expand their role by replacing the ceilings in every room on the second floor, adding moulding and building a real closet for my daughter. The work is top notch. The price tag hurts. Someone mentions I’m increasing the value of the house. A good thing, but for whom exactly?

Financial responsibility is my mantra: live simply, live within your means, save. How do you tell someone who has dealt with cancer they’re not being responsible with their money. That person has presumably stared death in the face and their point of reference is forever shifted. New car? Hell Yes! Ten-day cruise to Mexico with friends? Absolutely! Weekly dinner dates with pals? New clothes? More and more stuff? Why not? Live life as though it might be your last day. Sure, I get it, but girls need glasses and braces and there’s that class trip to Washington DC, not to mention saving for college – aggressively. How many tens of thousands of dollars is the annual tuition at a reasonably good school? And what about that lingering lawsuit? Not to mention a hundred other things.

As my savings stumbles and lurches downward I counter-intuitively double down on the future, my future. Steady retirement investing yields impressive results. If only I live that long. Something tells me I may not be around to enjoy actually it. Of course, if I die sooner rather than later at least my daughters will be provided for. There is some consolation in that I suppose.

Slow and steady. Breathe in and out. Remain calm. The money doesn’t really matter; it’s just a means to an end.