Dearest Rachel –
For all that much of life is conducted online these days (and to think, we were part of the vanguard; remember when we used to send out family Christmas letters, and thought it worthy of comment that most of our purchases were made that year on Amazon? Good times), some things need to be taken care of in person. Likewise, other things simply require paper as opposed to pixels. If nothing else, digital documents can be edited and otherwise modified (and while I know there is such a field as forensic computer science, where every edit can actually be determined in the code, that knowledge is still beyond that of the average person, like myself), but paper isn’t as forgiving. Yes, you can erase things like pencil, but ink doesn’t lend itself to that; it’s irrevocable, unless and until you destroy the paper itself.
Such was yesterday morning’s activity; getting Mom out to the lawyers’ to sign a few more documents pertaining to all that Dad left her. Basic formalities, for the most part; transferring the position of ‘trustee’ to her, as well as establishing a new governmental identification number for the trust he set up that basically included everything. I hadn’t thought about it, since we never had any such things set up, but it certainly makes sense that his Social Security number couldn’t continue to be used to identify any of it, now that he’s gone. So we had to get a new one to cover it all. It’s a little bit of a nuisance, but not terribly much of one – we got the new number in a matter of minutes. Now, of course, she needs to let their investment team know about this, so they aren’t forced to do any backup withholding on the trust under his number.
And, of course, now it’s going to be the investment company that wants her to come in to sign stuff, so I may need to wrap this letter up quickly before I drive her over there later today.
But while we were out at the lawyers’, they mentioned that we would need to get the documentation updated on the folks’ car, since the title is in Dad’s name. Fortunately, there was a currency exchange in the area we could stop at that wasn’t too far out of the way. Unfortunately, they claimed that we would have to replace the plates as well, since they were associated with the title; if you change one, you have to change the other. They also recommended that we not bother with transferring either until the plates come close to expiring (which, we discovered upon returning home, wouldn’t be until next spring). When I mentioned that Mom didn’t want the plates changed (they’re personalized with Daniel’s childhood nickname for her), they suggested we go to the Secretary of State’s office at our earliest convenience to see what they could do about the title, at least. Bureaucratic red tape, I tell you…
At least Mom was glad to have me there to walk her through making sure as many of her papers were in order (if nothing else, someone has to actually be able to hear what’s being said, by either the attorney or one clerk or another). It’s a weird sort of help to be able to offer, but as long as I’m doing it, it feels good to provide it, even as the sluggish pace of it all can be annoying. At the same time, it’s not as if I’m one in any hurry.
Or maybe I am; yesterday afternoon, I’d scheduled an appointment (if you can call it that – although I wonder if someone else would give it a different name) to meet Kerstin at the local warehouse club. Daniel and I have a membership (or maybe it’s just me, now that I think about it), and just as you and her would go back-and-forth between the club in her neighborhood and the one in ours, I’ve sort of picked up the mantle for you. I see no harm in helping her pick up bulk staples at this place under my membership – although I don’t bother with the other club in her area the way you used to; we just don’t need that many staples anymore.
But it seems what we do need at the house is paper products; Logan in particular goes through the paper towels… and as for the other paper products, well, let’s just say that the Covid-era stockpiles have long since been gone through (not that we did that much hoarding at the time; I still remember you handing out rolls to people from time to time out of our excess throughout that year, as someone would mention having a lack due to empty store shelves. You always had faith that we would have enough to keep us going until things came back – and you turned out to be right). Not only that, but this is one of those things where physical paper is absolutely necessary – certain transactions just can’t be managed digitally (in either sense of the word).
In any event, since the lawyers weren’t available until noon, I had to postpone the shopping trip – or so I thought at the time. I figured it might take the better part of two hours to get the legal paperwork resolved; and although the time spent (fruitlessly) at the currency exchange did delay us, we were still back more than an hour before I’d rescheduled meeting up at the warehouse club. So Daniel and I grabbed lunch on the way there, rather than waiting until afterwards. This proved to be beneficial, as neither of us were hungry for the various foodstuffs that were on offer (although I’ll admit to letting my sweet tooth get the better of me with one item or another); we didn’t even bother with the sample kiosks that the place is famous for.
The same couldn’t be said for Kerstin, as she snacked at nearly each stall that offered something. And at least one had its desired effect on her, as she piled a lasagna that I’m certain she wouldn’t have bothered with otherwise into the cart as a result. All it takes is one sale to justify having those things out, I suppose. At least neither of us bought more than a hundred dollars worth of stuff; although combined, we definitely managed to amass as much, and then some. I don’t know what you would have thought, to be honest.
And of course, on our way out, we had to make sure that each of us had our paperwork available to be examined by the staff. Not sure why they do that; it seems difficult to shoplift stuff from a warehouse store (and the fact that two different receipts had to be provided to account for everything in the cart), but I don’t think like a loss prevention officer – or a marketing professional. In any event, we got this all accomplished before most people’s workday would be over and done with, so we could avoid the worst of the crowds (although, judging by the parking lot, I don’t think there is a time to avoid the crowds at that place, unless it’s closed) and get home before rush hour.
Anyway, that’s the story of yesterday; I’ll be needing to head out now to take Mom to sign some more papers today (like, right now). Keep an eye on us, and wish us well.
Letters to Rachel 