Sparks and Butterflies...

After dad’s death, I was accused of manipulating him into giving me what he gave me, and becoming the trustee of his estate. Of taking advantage of him in his weakened, drugged state. Here’s what actually happened, to get it out of my head, and for posterity.

In July of 1998, a few months after my wedding (perspective: I’ve been married over 21 years now), mom and dad created their trust. I have no idea what arrangements they had, if any, prior to that date, as I’ve not come across anything.

In that original trust, first, of course, everything from personal goods to money, to medical decisions was left to each other. One exception, dad left some specific items to folks, and mom left money and her vehicle (whatever was “her” vehicle at the time) to her son from a previous marriage, Robert. Then, should both pass, two friends were left as co-trustees until I came of age, and then I was to co-trustee with one of those friends. Once they were both gone, certain dollar amounts went to various family members, friends, and organizations, after which, the rest of their estate and personal goods came to me. Should I be gone at that time, that would go to my children, should I have any (at the time we didn’t). I didn’t know about this trust.

Over time, like, a decade, my mom had gotten sick a few times seriously, so I asked what they wanted, and what their arrangements were. My mom didn’t want to discuss it, but gave me the trust to read and let me know the location. And there things stood.

A couple years after mom died, I did pressure dad into reading it. Having read it myself, I had a suspicion he didn’t actually know what was in it. Mom had a tendency to do whatever the hell she wanted and then shove papers under dad’s nose to sign. So, I confronted him with that fact, which he agreed was the case, and told him he needed to read it. He refused. He asked me, instead, to write up a cliff’s notes version – a cheat sheet – that just told him the facts without the legal jargon.

Side note: I strongly suspect that dad had an undiagnosed learning disability of some sort.

And so, I did. I just took a piece of paper and wrote down who got what, and who was in charge, and what would happen if medically incapacitated, etc. I told him, if he didn’t want changes, cool, all this would stay as it stood. So think – when you pass, is this what you want? There were two changes I knew for sure *should* happen, but if it didn’t, that was fine. One of the co-trustees was no longer doing estate work (however, the date had already passed for me to take her place), and Robert had passed away before mom. And there was one item that HAD to be updated. They hadn’t mentioned who should make medical decisions once one of the spouses had passed. The language made it seem like the trustee/s would, but I wasn’t clear on that one, as the medical power-of-attorney seemed to be a different bit in the document.

But, as I suspected, he definitely wanted to make some changes. He didn’t want the charity mentioned to receive the funds prior. He’d had a bad run-in with them after mom died. He had changed his mind on who he wanted to have the specific items in his will portion. He didn’t want the friends mentioned to receive the money mentioned as he’d not spoken to them in a decade. And he didn’t want the co-trustee to touch anything, as this person had begun their descent into dementia. The changes he wished to make made sense, and more importantly, the changes were what he wanted.

I strongly believe that the person who earned the stuff gets to determine where it goes. If they don’t make arrangements, fine, to court we go to make decisions, but that’s just irresponsible in my opinion. But if you DO make arrangements, then you get to determine your estate.

There was one point that I absolutely pressured him on, and have no regrets doing so. His medical power-of-attorney – in other words – the person making medical decisions on his behalf should he be incapacitated. He wanted to list a friend, who was just as old as him (early 80’s) and lived 3,000 miles away. That seemed stupidly impractical to me. When I confronted him on it, I realized his understanding was skewed. He thought he needed to list a medical person, and he didn’t know any doctors, and this person had a Doctorate in Nursing so he felt she was the most qualified. I explained that this wasn’t about medical knowledge. He would have his own doctors and medical team exactly like he does now… This was for someone to make decisions that he would want because he couldn’t. Someone who knew his wishes, etc. It was about making happen what he wanted when he couldn’t tell them himself. I very strongly wanted to be that person. I felt I was best qualified (I was the only who made him have the “hard” conversations), and knew from a practical perspective I’d be helping him health-wise anyway. Once he understood the purpose, he agreed with me.

I can honestly say that was the only point I had undue influence on. He did bounce ideas off me, and I helped him form the pros/cons of various things, but the truth is, my dad is pretty wishy washy. And I purposefully didn’t help all that much so that the ultimate choices he made were his.

It took over a year for him to make his decisions. He asked me to write up those changes, so he could find a lawyer and make it happen, but not think about it on the spot. He found his own lawyer (I believe it was a friend’s of his, so he got a referral), and went off to make whatever changes he wanted. I was not present for that. I did take him to his finalization meeting, where he was going to sign everything, but I wasn’t in the room. And the only interaction I had with the attorney was to ask how I accomplish my duties as trustee after death? And he told me to just get in touch with him and he’d walk me through it when the time came.

This was all a couple years before his diagnosis – and the changes were minor from their 1998 version – and if anything – was more generous to family members than the previous version.

There was one change he made after his diagnosis. He wanted to help LA, his homeless son I mentioned in a previous post. He was leaving a specific dollar amount to him in his trust – however – he thought he could use the help in present rather than future. But at the same time he didn’t want to give him a hand out. So – he went to his attorney and fashioned an addendum in which LA would be receiving his inheritance early, in a monthly dispersal under certain conditions, and that amount was deducted from what he was to receive after dad’s death. LA signed, agreeing to the changes. I was in that meeting as dad asked me to. Dad wasn’t a really great communicator, and wanted to make sure that the terms were completely communicated to LA. He also made me do the dispersals and the paperwork that LA signed, because I’m good at those kind of details. And so we did all that. Dad died 5 months later.

After dad’s death, I did every.single.thing. mentioned in the trust. And in fact, under my authority as trustee, I gave more than required – such as vehicles given – because I had many, many conversations with dad about what he wanted after death.

I was still lambasted.

But I know, with absolute certainty, I did what was legally required of me. I know, with absolute certainty, I did what dad wanted. Period.

I’ll get more into the specifics I ran into later. But I know I did the right thing by my dad, and it was my dad’s stuff. It’s terribly sad that it caused me to be shunned from the family (more to come on that) but is more a reflection on who these people are than myself.

Here is the convoluted story of how this teeny tiny lioness made her way into our life. It also serves as a good example of how fucked up my family is.

I’ve mentioned before, my parents were in legality/blood my great aunt and great uncle. They raised me when my biological mother Jeannette left me at 3 1/2. But, they’d had a hand in raising me until then anyway, because she tended to disappear.

They also had their own children. Dad had LA and GA from a previous marriage, and mom had RP from a previous marriage. RP has been gone a long time. He committed suicide in his fifties, the result of what we believe was an incorrect depression prescription when he was, in fact, bipolar. At the time of this story, GA was not in the picture due to a falling out that I was not privy to. LA is homeless, and is on the streets with his wife, CA.

LA and/or CA kept asking my dad for money. They had a habit of getting storage units – even using the information of my niece once, so now she can’t get storage units – using them, even sleeping in them, until kicked out or not paying and the units being locked up for nonpayment. They’d ask my dad for gas money. Or to pay off this unit or that unit. Or go to the auction so they could get their stuff back. Dad had a hard time saying no, because of the situation that they were in. But, the situation they were in was their own damn fault. They both have always been “poor mes.” Anything in their path is someone else’s fault. As an example, LA lost his last job because… CA smacked his boss across the face when he said no to some time off. Huh. Turns out battery by someone’s spouse will get you fired – and no unemployment.

They also had pets… Two very old dogs, and a cat. The cat was old too, but they never had her fixed, and let her wander out of wherever they were staying and she ended up pregnant and having a litter. The litter died, with the exception of one kitten.

They came up with a scheme with friends of theirs to steal copper piping. They got got. When they were arrested, the police contacted my dad to see if he would take the animals so that they didn’t go to an animal shelter. My dad agreed. And I wake up one day to my dad being slightly panicked, and unsure what to do with three geriatric animals and a baby kitten. I got him the requisite supplies, and helped him get them set up in the “love nest” (the little apartment behind his house). They had fleas, and dad didn’t want them getting lost in the house (remember the hoarding situation?)

After several days, they kept LA for his charges, but released CA. Dad gave her back the animals. Except… for the kitten. CA gave him the kitten, because he thought it was so cute. Dad accepted it for two reasons. 1) He thought he’d be helping them out by having one less mouth to feed. 2) He thought it had a better chance of living. LA ended up being prosecuted and spent nearly a year in prison. So CA was out on her own and any interactions with dad was strictly with CA.

Now… Dad had a long, long history with CA. I was in their wedding when I was 4 or 5 years old. So this is a long time marriage. Dad could never stand her. He thought she was terrible for LA. LA had his own issues, but Dad thought they were very, very exacerbated by CA, and he’s right. They bring out the worst in each other. So Dad really had no interest in helping her out while LA was in jail.

So… Now dad has this kitten. And he panics. He realizes that he – over 80 and getting shaky on his feet – had no business having a kitten under his feet. That this kitten was going to get lost in his house of hoarding. So – he asked if I would take the kitten. Of course I said yes.

We renamed her Ginger (previously Charlie, and they thought she was a boy). We took her to the vet because I was pretty sure she’d never seen one before. I was right. She was days from death. The fleas were eating her alive, and the parasites were taking over her insides. We got her healthy. Turns out that orange tabbies are very very rare as females, but that’s what she is. We incorporated her into our lives. The two older cats (Sassy and Pebbles, gone now) were wholly uninterested, but the younger cat, Mozzie, and her became fast friends. Which was awesome, because Mozzie really wanted to be friends with the older cats, and they were having none of it. Now… we had four cats… Way too many… But such is life.

Fast forward a few months. CA decides she should move into the Love Nest and “help dad out.” Dad was like… Hell no. Several reasons.

• He can’t stand her.
• He doesn’t trust her in any capacity.
• He doesn’t want her around his grandsons (we live next door to each other).
• He doesn’t want to give her the ammunition to establish residency.
• She’s very litigious, has sued numerous people etc. She’s never won (just because you think you’re right – remember, everything happens TO them and is not their fault? – Doesn’t mean you are), but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to follow through with the process, aggravation, and costs.

When CA realizes that this is not going to happen… She says she wants her cat back. She basically wants “takes backsies” because she didn’t get her way. Dad says he doesn’t have the cat, he gave it to me.

She says, “You will go and get my cat, and you will give it back to me.” This is during the day. I have no idea why he hasn’t blocked her on his phone, but I think he’s afraid to lose the link to his son, somehow. Dad informs me of this, and what’s being said back and forth. I go to the sheriffs in person. My question basically being… Does she get to do this, and if she shows up, what are we allowed within our rights? I was told that she could sue in civil court, as a property dispute. We’d probably win, but that’s what she’d have to do. She cannot just come into our property to take the animal back. And she cannot just come into our property without our permission. If she shows up, just give them a call.

What does dad do? He literally runs away to mom’s best friend’s house and leaves me to deal with my psycho sister-in-law.

She texts dad that she’s on the way, and dad lets me know. This prompts my second contact with the sheriff’s office. They send out a deputy. When he comes in, we explain the situation. I ask again what our rights are and he reiterates what I’ve already been told. He also tells us a few things on our house. Things like, because we have glass in our front door, when we lock the deadbolt, remove the key, or else someone can just break the glass and unlock it, that sort of thing. We warned him that she might show up – she said she would – but that she was also on drugs and we didn’t know if she’d get distracted and not come. He said just to give them a call. Unbeknownst to us, when he left, he simply went around the corner and waited.

Sure enough, a couple of hours before Jay is to go into work, she shows up at Dad’s house. He’s not there, so she texts him to get over there and bring her her cat. Dad lets her know that I have the cat, I’m not giving it back, he’s not home, she’s not welcome on the property. He then texts me. So… Jay goes next door to handle the situation. I have no idea how she got there, but she’s got her geriatric animals in a baby stroller. Jay lets her know who he is, and that she’s got to leave. She starts screaming at him (literal screaming) that I stole her cat (dad gave it to us), she’s calling the cops (please do!), he has no right to tell her to get off the property (I live here, and owner told me to) etc. That my insane son (wtf has dad been telling them about my kids??) is going to kill the cat. Jay has experience of A) having an “insane son” – we later find out he has early onset schizophrenia, and B) being a night watch commander and being involved with all manner of mentally ill folks, high folks, criminal folks, and drunk folks when on shift. So, he’s completely calm when his only response is to lean in, rub his nose, and say, “You missed some,” and walked away. She screamed at his back the whole way into the house. And this prompts the third contact with the sheriff’s office. They show up super fast (because they were around the corner), and they searched our property and dad’s, but she had left.

She’s texting nasty things to dad this whole time.

It comes time for Jay to go to work. He gets ready, as he normally does, and when he starts loading his car and stuff, he realizes that she’s across the street in the hospital parking lot, screaming at the top of her lungs at him. He decides that he is not going to be able to go to work and feel as if we’re safe. So he comes in, calls off work, and we call the sheriffs for a 4th time. They go and talk to her. It takes forever, but they convince her to leave. She says that she doesn’t need to, that she’s on public property – and they correct her… The hospital is actually private property and she’s not welcome. Regarding the cat, she can file in civil court, but she has to leave. If she does not, they’ll arrest her for trespassing. She finally leaves. But she’s texting dad all kinds of vitriol, including bringing up past issues (abuse I have not discussed here), and that she’ll go to the cops about it, etc. That he’s a horrid man, he’s evil, he’s going to jail, etc. The deputies talk to us and suggest that A) dad blocks her on his phone, and B) we get a restraining order.

Dad eventually gets a different phone number. We don’t do the restraining order, because he’s too wishy washy to actually break contact. And we still have the cat… Ginger.

Our life changed after mom died in 2013.

After the initial things you must do after death, and the initial grief, and the world begins to turn again, you figure out your new normal.

Dad had already begun relying on me more when mom was alive. She had always handled the bills, accounts, and financials. But she had Alzheimer’s and couldn’t anymore. So – for the first time in 40 years, dad was paying the water bill. His union dues. The electricity. Balancing his checkbook. I was helping with things like that. They had made a promise to each other not to put the other in a nursing home – so he was her primary caregiver. But… You still need to go to the grocery store, the bank, etc. So I would work from his house to essentially babysit so he could handle that stuff. Towards the end, he began second guessing himself on her medical care, so I would help with those things as well.

After she passed, he slowed down. There was no one to care for any longer. With only himself to worry about, and no one to nag him about the cleaning or the house… He just stopped. He wouldn’t clean. He’s a natural hoarder, and house just piled up with stuff. The outside stuff, yard work, and home repairs began to fall on us. Only that created conflict because dad thought he should be able to to, couldn’t, but thought it was his choice not to. And everything we did – because we didn’t do it his way – was wrong. And he never ever paid for anything he could do himself. But if he couldn’t it just didn’t get done, because he should. It was a constant struggle.

He began seeing someone, Mary Lou, and old high school friend. You want creepy? Have your 80-something father talk to you about dating after your entire life of over four decades, he was with your mom. Ew.

But she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and was only interested in casual dating. Dad’s not built that way. I don’t think he has ever – ever – ever been alone. Mom was his 4th wife. The longest for sure, but he’s meant for a relationship, not casual dating. In addition, Mary Lou had family drama. She was still very involved in property and things with her ex-husband, and there was some kind of drama with that. Eventually, they stopped seeing each other.

Then… Dad got close again to his ex-wife. Very close. Like – seeing each other through handwritten letters. Except… She’s married. It was inappropriate. He was having me send her flowers and shit, because he couldn’t figure out how. They both could say, “nothing happened,” but that’s not honest. Also… creepy.

It was all just weird.

And a little eeewww.

And then he got diagnosed.