Update - I’m happy to report this matter is nearly resolved. Changes in the Public Trustee’s office meant there was no longer a need for this matter to go to probate. Payment of my dad’s share of his brother’s estate is slated to arrive shortly.
But this is how it was last year and for that reason I have chosen to run this again.
From Sunday, August 12, 2007
Dance Of The Wills
Bike rides have a way of clearing my head. Matters get resolved in some fashion. Perspectives change. Life gets easier.
Yesterday was like that.
My sister is about to be invited to contest our dad’s will. It’s because the Public Trustee’s office needs it to go through probate in order for his estate to receive his share of his brother’s estate.
Uncle Reynold was in public care for virtually all his adult life. Government money he received went in to the bank. He died a few years ago and his money is to be distributed evenly among his survivors.
My lawyer will send my sister a letter explaining the need for probate and advising her she has six months to contest dad’s will. This is where the fun begins.
She’ll be upset and will rail at me for doing something to her. Not that she needs a physical trigger for this.
She recently decided for no earthly reason that I’d sent Social Services to investigate her. When my husband took the call the other night she ranted about not wanting to be victimized any more and demanded of him that she speak to “that thing you live with.”
A registered letter from a lawyer is sure to send her around the nearest bend, and she’ll insist on knowing just what it is that I’m up to.
I can explain the situation, but I can’t advise her. I’m in a conflict of interest because it’s my money she’d be getting.
I don’t think she’d contest dad’s will of her own accord, but she’ll talk to her friends and our relatives and somebody will tell her to do it.
Because she is an AISH (Assured Income for the Severely Handicapped) recipient, the Public Trustee’s office can contest the will for her of its own volition.
I can’t do anything about it. It is very possible that she could be awarded every penny of our inheritance. I’ve already told my lawyer that if it’s contested I’ll just pay it.
Am I rolling over and exposing my throat like the losing dog does in the fight? Well, yeah, I am. But I won’t win so there’s no point dragging it out.
It’s hard to not to resent the situation it. I put up with her violence and abuse. Now I may have to pay her for it.
The government believes private money is better than than public, and that’s why the Public Trustee’s office can make a bid for reallocation of an inheritance. In theory that’s great, but an AISH recipient can have up to $100,000 in the bank and still get the monthly cheque. Public money is still being spent.
It was tough to swallow at first, but it’s getting easier. I went for a bike ride yesterday and the fresh air cleared my mind. It was a fairly warm day, but not too warm, really just a pleasant day in fullness of a mature northern summer.As I pedaled I thought. I have a good life. I have a love and friends and a home and no debt.
I step outside and see the mountains. I have fresh food and fresh air and can go hiking or biking or anything else I want any time I want.I have my own vehicle. I work at home.
I’m living the life I want.
My sister collects AISH and lives in a mental construct of hell. She called me evil recently and at the time I am sure it was her absolute truth. Whatever she accuses me of she believes at the time. I understand that.
She is largely unable to help herself and is swayed easily by others. She doesn’t listen to me, but she accepts as gospel the most nonsensical claims of others.
Most of my inheritance is my bank account with only a bit left in the estate account. I was going finish paying for dad’s headstone next month then close the account and send my sister her remaining allotment.
I can’t do that now because of probate.
I can’t touch my portion of my inheritance either because I might have to pay it all to my sister. She might give it all away or spend it on whatever she fancies.
It is difficult to not resent the fact that the money my dad wanted me to have, the inheritance he designated for us to share equally, could go to her and quickly slide through her fingers.
Certainly I’m imagining the worst outcome for me because I need to prepare for it. It may not happen. But should this come to pass I have to be ready.
And it is, after all, only money.