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As I watch the news each day, with everything happening in the markets, I can't help but glean a certain amount of happiness with each bank that falls. I am praying with every fiber of my being that without the backing of the banks, credit card companies will be next. Quite frankly, I think that the business of credit card companies is no different from that of a loan shark or scam artist. I did not always feel this way. As a matter of fact, I was proud to own 8-10 credit cards at one time that is, until they killed my mother. They slowly, methodically and very deliberately, took every bit of life from her, and here is how they did it.

First a little background. My parents were simple people, by simple I mean they quite frankly, were hillbillies. My mother was born in 1928 and was four years older than my father. She was from Virginia and he, from Kentucky. The fact that he entered the Air Force took them away from their simple lives, landing them in Albuquerque, New Mexico where he retired. My parents did not go to college, and really for the most part, they had retained their innocence regarding the world outside their own lives. As the eldest child in my family, in some ways, I was their main connection to the outside world. It was a frustration for me for me to answer questions posed to me by my parents especially when I considered the subject matter simple, too simple for people their age to not know and perhaps that frustration showed at times.

After more than 45 years of marriage, my father died in 1994. In providing for my mother that had never worked, his insurance paid off the mortgage on their house and she received a pension from the Air Force, along with social security. Her income was approximately $1400 per month, which didn't make her rich, but certainly kept her safe. Although we lived a few hours away, I spoke with my mother every day and sometimes several times a day after my father's death, but since I knew she had the means to provide for herself, we did not discuss finances. When I was a child, my mother and I used to go out to play Bingo at the local halls. We played for prizes like coffee pots, dishes etcetera. Playing Bingo was not something I had time for while raising my own children, but I just didn't think much about it when my mother said that she had begun playing Bingo.

It was just a couple of years later and one busy day at work when I received a frantic call from my mother. Her request was that I co-sign for a loan on her house.

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