The Legal Niceties

Dearest Rachel –

I fell asleep early last night; it wasn’t even dark yet, so I had to put on my eye mask to do so, but everything I’d intended to do for the day was done. Besides, I’d need to get up early in the morning if I was going to hit the gym and wash up before Kris came over to clean the place. She seems to think that, since it’s been well over a month since she’s been by, the house has fallen into more disrepair than usual. Which makes no sense to me, since during three of those six weeks, Daniel and I haven’t even been home to make a mess… but whatever.

Overnight, I dreamed that I paid a visit to Dad over at the house, like I used to before we flew out on this last trip. As an opening conversational gambit – because, for all the surreality inherent in dreams, I’m not really that creative – I asked him how he was feeling, to which he chuckled, “I’m feeling just great! It’s you who has to deal with life on earth anymore.”

That’s when I realized where I was, and that however much the scene looked like reality, it wasn’t. He’s over with you now, and we’ve got to take care of matters in the aftermath.

Which brings me to telling you about the cares of the past day, like I usually tell you about. Sure, I put in the usual couple of hours at the ‘office’ yesterday morning, which I don’t feel the need to go into details about. But the main thing I was there for was to drive Mom over to the attorney’s to go over Dad’s will and estate. Fortunately, they use the same lawyer as we did – still do, I guess, though it’s no longer “we” – in fact, they recommended him to us once we were winding up both of your parents’ estates. Not that we didn’t have dealings with him beforehand, as he was the leader of a group Bible study we attended with several other couples for a few years. So obviously, I was quite familiar with him.

In fact, when he joined Mom and I in his office conference room, he started out by talking about a situation I had pending regarding the HH bonds I’d discovered in the kist a few months ago. At this point, since they are payable to no one living, the proceeds go to the decedents’ beneficiaries, which is to say, me and Daniel. The trouble is that, apparently, the amount can’t be split between two people; guess the government can’t wrap its collective mind behind the concept of ‘going halfsies.’ So, to make things all legal and proper, Greg pointed out that, as executor, I’m entitled to a nominal payment for my services, as well as the cost of the funeral and so forth. Now, the payment due to the executor is actually slightly less than the total amount of the bonds, but the costs of the cremation, the urn and so forth to get you back from the Milwaukee funeral home you’d gone to from the hospital more than makes up the difference. Hey, whatever works. Not sure when they’ll be cashed, but it’s nice not to be in a hurry for this to be worked out.

In any event, this proved to be very different from what I’ve had to deal with regarding your estate. Even before Dad ever got sick in the first place, he’d had a will drawn up, which is perfectly in character for him. While Mom has spent the last week wondering what specific details Greg would need, and trying to put it all together, Dad had already taken care of that over a decade ago. All that needed to be done was to update the current value of the assets – in order to confirm that they were below the taxable threshold for estates – and find out if the “family trust” he’d set up has a separate tax identification number, or if it was under his name and control (in which case, Greg would need to request a new one, since Dad no longer controlled it).

In short, virtually nothing has to go to probate, since everything was covered by one or another trust – his, Mom’s or the “family” one – as opposed to yours, where everything had to go through there, without a will or any explicit written wishes. The man left nothing to chance; which, again, is completely in character.

I will mention, as an aside, that even the personal effects were covered as belonging to the family trust, which I didn’t know could be done. I think we both thought everything had to be itemized and listed in detail, which is why we were waiting until we knew what we had in order to create wills. If it’s just a matter of saying “all my personal property belongs to this trust,” maybe this is easier that either of us assumed it would be, and I should get on with it.

At the same time, we both had a way of procrastinating when it came to these sorts of things, so just establishing what, specifically, we had – and what we had to list, in detail – may never have been the hard part, as much as getting up and doing it in the first place. As collegial as we were (okay, I am) with Greg, having to deal with him on a professional level isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.

Then again, once the legal niceties are put in order, that’s essentially the end of it. No one has to deal with it until after I’m gone – and even then, he won’t have to deal with the tooth-pulling order of getting money from this or that life insurance policy, since I prefer to have my investments where I can see and work with them. Everything should be made as simple as possible for him, because even I know that this isn’t fun to deal with – and I (sort of) know what I’m doing, after the last decade or so.

In any event, I’d ask you to keep an eye on us as we sort things out – and give me a push to get my own house in order (as much as that might be out of character for you to insist on) – and wish us well in both endeavors, as we’re going to need it.