And I Leave My Collection of Boogers To...

There are those conversations you have but aren't supposed to have, because they require the death of a relative. I had one with someone who was sort of wondering if his girlfriend's grandfather, who adores her, would leave the property he owns to her, thereby improving the lot of these two soon to be marrieds. I tempered his “sort of hopeful” fantasy by asking, “Have you read the will?” That threw cold water on the whole dream. But these scenarios come up daily in people's lives. They are real. They do now as my cohort's parents are reaching the ends of their lives.

In my own case, I can attribute my “luck,” if you can call it that, to a family that neatly and quickly dropped dead one by one. The house my father was paying a mortgage on was protected by an insurance policy from back in the 70's which activated when he died and paid off the balance of the debt. This left my mother without the monthly torpedo that could've hit her bank account for years to come. This was a major relief to her as she had problems of her own to work out.

Back around the year 2000, I had a rather brusque but honest conversation with a friend whose grasp of reality was incredibly tight. It was so tight it was rude. I had been watching the slow degradation of my brother's cystic fibrosis for a couple of years and was finally accepting the notion that one day, it would come to an end...and end him as well. What was I to do as it did end? How would his half ownership of this house be effected should if he should rack up medical bills passing $1 million? Would I be forced to sell this property to pay off his creditors?

The advice I got was both appalling and legitimate.

“Want to know something about the dead?” I was told.

“What?

“They no longer matter anymore. It's YOU that still stuck on this Earth and have to live.”

“That's a good thing” I say.

“Yes, but YOU, not him, have to scramble to keep your ship afloat. Do you want the drowning to yank you under too? Mother Theresa was canonized for her grace, you won't be! Do you want to do it the easy way or the hard way?”

There's a pause from me as I digest that.

“Jesus, you're MECENARY!” I tell him.

“You HAVE to be mercenary! You think being “nice” is going to solve this problem? Get to a lawyer and soon!”

I managed to convince my brother to do so as he, for a brief moment, really looked at his condition and realized the gravity of it. We found a rather neat older lady lawyer who listened to our story and finagled a “irrevocable trust” situation where if anything happened to one or both of us, the reciprocity nature of the legal action would protect the survivors. If I go, he makes out. If he goes, I make out. You gotta love lawyers at times, some could argue with God Himself and get you into heaven on a technicality. You oughta see how these same lawyers set up a legal, but sham corporation in the Cayman Islands.

**

Hurry Up and Die Already!

...and then there are the relatives who wished you were six feet under.

A friend of a friend, who has no close relatives left, save for his wife's side, is now having to deal with the buttery attention he's receiving from them. He managed to do quite well in his life working in DC, piling up a kitty of nearly $5 million in assets. Now that he's pretty much “alone” in this world with no kids, brothers or living sisters and his next closest relatives are now legally it in line.

He'd probably not even get a Christmas Card every year if his net worth was under $1,000. “Uncle Paul? I haven't seen him in years!” That would be because a poor Uncle Paul can't buy you a condo in Punta Gorda FL should he die. But Uncle Paul really does have assets and is now receiving some rather unwarranted attention from relatives he hasn't spoken to in years.

“You're not really going to leave it to them, are you?” a friend asks him.

“Well, who else? I have no one else.”

“You're going to give that plain Jane niece of yours, who is as boring as wall paper paste, that kind of money? And the others? You DO know what they'll do with it? They'll rent a G5 and blow it all in Las Vegas...is that what you want to see happen to your 50 years worth of work?”

“But who else?” our rich friend protests.

“How about leaving it to me?” says my friend, as a nice jab.

As a retort, our Uncle Paul says, “How about I leave it to the American Communist Party? I can you know!”

“You can, but wouldn't you rather leave it to me instead? Knowing it'll be spent wisely....AH HA HA HA!” he guffaws. “Christ Paul, a million people would love to have the problems you have now...how to dispense millions after your dead!”

Paul relents. “I know, I know, but it's still a problem. Who do I crown with this good luck? Who do I like well enough?”

My friends raises he hand sheepishly and points to himself, grinning.

**

I have a will and only because a lawyer years ago harangued me to get one. When you finally sit down and have to pick and choose who it goes too, it can open your eyes as to what you really want do do with it. I've known parents who thought twice about leaving it to their own kids, knowing what they'll do with it. That sort of tells you how those kids turned out, huh?

There was a line from a movie (I can't remember the title) where there was a reading of a will. In it the deceased says, “To my nephew John, who last year requested I “mention” him in my will.....well...there ya go! You've been mentioned!”

Here's another...click the pic.