Posted by: silverstar98121 | February 26, 2009

The Family Meeting

On Sunday after the breakfast and the auction, my siblings threw the rest of the family out so we could have a family meeting. The meeting was about Dad’s estate. It seems Dad didn’t take Sister Executor’s advice to die with 35¢ in his pocket, although I think he could have gone for $7 myself. And apparently she didn’t take my advice to cremate all the monetary instruments with Dad.

And so there will be some money coming. And the meeting was about me because I am a very bad money manager. My mental health issues sometimes get in the way when I see something and go “OOOOhhh, shiny!!” I acknowledge this. Some of my readers know the other side of this coin. And so they wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be out on the street, and that I would have money for wheelchairs and scooters if I needed them. Gee, most of them don’t talk to me, but I guess they talk about me. I could resent it, but this is the most concern most of them have showed for me for the last 20 years.

So, Mrs. Precisely is going to set up co-owned accounts so that I will have money for wheelchairs, new dogs, etc. And that’s OK with me. The woman is a saint, I tell you. She acts as go-between for me and some of the other folks who’s heads I would like to smash occasionally. She goes for pedicures with my other sisters so I don’t have to.

I may even get some money to play with. That would be nice. But we don’t know how much there is yet. Although, unlike Daisy Fae’s mom, my sister was co-owner on my Dad’s accounts. But she was chosen because she is a saint and we know it will be Precisely right. Oh, and Daisy Fae, she and her husband were both engineers before they retired.

Part of my tasking when I got home was to figure some things out. We had thought about getting pet health insurance for Friday, but for what it would cost for an 11 year old dog, I could buy a lot of vet care. So we will put money away for that. I got Dad’s wheelchair checked out, and it will probably die sooner rather than later. But at least Scooterman is honest, and told me it wasn’t worth repairing at this point. And pointed me to a place where they sell refurbished wheelchairs and power chairs.

It’s not surprising that what with all that’s gone on this month, I’ve been under the weather for a couple of days. I hope to get back to my blog reading soon. But now, I thinks it’s time for one more trip outside for Friday, and then to bed.


  1. families are funny – even when we drive each other batty, there seems to be a fundamental desire to look out for each other! i think the only reason mom and dad asked me to coordinate the finances was that i’m pretty good at math.

    nice that they’re looking out for you – that The Saint will work the interface between you and the rest of the clan!

  2. It is nice that they are looking out for you. DNOS is currently bringing our mother around to the idea of setting BabySis up in a trailer of her own. It’s something that needs to be done.

    My younger brother had another spell recently. This time he was being followed by men trying to kill him. It passed quicker than his last break from reality.

    oh, changed the subject. Sorry. Glad that you are getting some cash.

    • I was very much thinking of you and Daisy Fae, and some of your problems with your siblings who are, shall we say, on the flaky side? I’m pretty flaky, but they don’t know how good they have it.

  3. Silverstar, that sounds so good. I don’t know about you but the cash, while nice, isn’t near as good as knowing that they care even if you still want to bash each others’ heads once in awhile.

  4. I agree with annie that it’s nice to have your family looking out for you. Some people just aren’t very adept at managing money, through no fault of their own, and so you’re lucky you have some support there.

  5. What a nice, reflective, honest post, offering insights into an intelligent life. There’s learnin’ in there for me, somewhere, I know it.

    • Have patience, Sal, it only took me nearly 60 years to get here with about 30 years of therapy.

  6. So wise of your dad to chose just the right person to execute his will.

    My grandmother chose the son she disinherited to do hers. Doh. Things didn’t go well.

    • He had help choosing, Kitty. I was his executor for a while, and when they decided to change because I was too far away, they were going to make another sister executor. She would have done a good job, but I persuaded them to name Mrs. Precisely instead, because she is Mrs. Precisely.

  7. I’m more of a Mrs Precisely than an Ooooh Shiny type of gal. Unless it involves corsets.

  8. My mom’s only coming up to 68 and should still live for quite awhile yet. And even though today’s problem is figuring out how to make her savings and pensions stretch that far, I was horrified to learn she has not made out a will yet. My biggest issue is the fact that I am seen as the equivalent of “Mrs. Precisely” in our family and the task of sorting things out will fall to me. Which enlivens the prospect of having to deal with my jackal siblings, most (all) of whom I rarely or never speak with.
    Oh joy.

    Glad to hear that things are sorting out in your favour, though. Takes a bit of a load off the mind, eh? It should, anyways.

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