Dearest Rachel –
I know that it isn’t that you wonder about the timing of my letters from day today; whether I get it out first thing in the morning or long after it’s gone dark is of no concern of yours. Indeed, if I were to be honest with myself, I’m forced to acknowledge that whether I compose these letters at all isn’t something you’re concerned with, or even aware of. So apologizing for the delay to yesterday’s letter seems unnecessary. And yet, it leads into this letter, and the explanation of yesterday afternoon’s frustrating events.
Once Kris was done cleaning the house (and I’d asked Daniel to let me know when he was finished listening to everyone he listens to – Tuesdays are apparently big days, in terms of new uploaded content), Daniel and I headed off to the bank to hopefully get things straightened out regarding his checking account.
It’s been a long a complicated journey to get to this point, honey. Since you left us without a will (understandable, as we were still sifting through your parents’ estates, and we still didn’t have a complete grasp of what you’d inherited yet, even after nearly two years, so we didn’t have a solid plan as to what either of us would have to leave to each other, Daniel, or anyone else), I wind up playing two parts in this situation: your executor and his father.
As your executor, I’ve had to guess about what you would have wanted done with what you left behind. Some things are simple; we’d talked about how you wanted your ashes scattered off the coast of Middle Bass, so that was an easy decision to make. Granted, what’s not been easy has been scheduling when to go, and who’s to come along, and as a result, that’s been deferred for nearly two years now. Your car is now Daniel’s to drive around; although I think it ought to be replaced and kept in the garage for posterity at some point, it’s working for him, and since he doesn’t drive nearly as much as I do (or even you did), it’ll last until I have to replace mine first, I think. And as for the money and investments – apart from a few bequests we talked about casually (although not so much that our lawyer doesn’t have a list of names, so I need to get to that, probably within the month. Maybe on your anniversary, in fact) – I’ve asked for it to be divided evenly between Daniel and I, as your two beneficiaries.
As his father, I want his finances set up much the same way ours were, even before your accident. Now that both of us have investment accounts, I wanted the bank to create a checking account that his could feed into, much as ours did back in the day. This way, I can get him started on paying his own bills going forward; his health insurance and credit card. It’s not much, but these lessons need to be gradual.
The thing is, it’s not been easy getting things set up. Oh, we were there a week or so before Christmas, and I thought everything was sorted out. But I was surprised to learn that, for starters, his checking account required a minimum balance; ours hadn’t, since it was linked to our investments. Why the difference? And when I tried to ask the bank to make a transfer to the checking account, I was told that I had no such authority; Daniel had to do this on his own. Now, I admit I want him handling his own money, sure, but the setup process is already more complicated than I’d like it to be. He doesn’t even want to go to the bank to sort this out – he doesn’t so much as know what he wants, or how to answer questions so that he can get what he needs – but it seems there’s only so much I can do for him.
And with all that in mind, we drove out there to try to set up his accounts the same way ours were. Additionally, I wanted to discover whether we’d managed to schedule a regular transfer of investment income into his account. Sure enough, when we had the lady at the bank check it for us, the only transfer was the one I had tried to order (and Daniel had to request by email) after we returned home from our first visit; there’d been no routine setup created. However, given what information we could provide her – including two forms of identification (each), social security information, bank account numbers – could she do anything to help us out?
Nope.
It turned out, after sitting in front of her desk for nearly two hours trying to sort it out, that the investment account is part of the Private Bank division, and there are but two people over in Cleveland who can take care of this for us. She tried her best to contact them, but when one has left the office for the day, and the other is in an hours-long meeting, there’s only so much she could do, either. We left empty-handed, with only reassurances that these two individuals (who, to be fair I’ve dealt with before, and they have been reasonably accommodating – although the one made it plain that I can no longer speak on Daniel’s behalf, since everything is in his name and he is of majority) would get back to us the following morning.
And, for what it’s worth, they did. I woke up to an email apologizing for their not being available, and I responded with what I wanted done. I made sure to copy the other individual and Daniel, because I assume this is going to be between them; I certainly haven’t heard anything since about it.
I may have to take care of his expenses for yet another month, though; I hate having these bills hanging over us when there’s something I can do about it. Even if everything is resolved today, and he gets his checks and whatnot, he’s still not going to be able to get them taken care of in time. It’s a pity, but what else can I do for now?
Anyway, keep an eye on both of us, honey, and wish us luck; we’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 