It’s amazing how much has changed since November 4th.
That’s the day Mom died. In that amount of time, I’ve come to realize that death really isn’t the kind of thing that brings out the best in people. If anything, I find that her death has made everything challenging in a new way. And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that making a family member executor, especially to a family as dysfunctional as ours (we do have a royal flush, my friends), is really a bad plan. You’d think that sometime in the past 27 years, I would have geared up for this marathon challenge. Instead, I went along living my life as though I’d never have to run it.
I am an idiot.
Mind you, there’s really nothing to execute. She was $33,008 in debt to the IRS, and another $46,000 to credit cards. My only task is to do my best with what’s left to generate enough of a revenue stream to satisfy the debts. As executor, you protect the deceased and her heirs from financial fraud and exploitation. That’s a hard one, and a little late if you ask me. This seriously needed to be done while she was alive. I’d say my other task was to keep the family happy, but that flew out the window as soon as I wasn’t able to do just that. You can’t execute an estate and keep people happy. That’s an impossible task.
As always, I don’t feel much has been learned other than I can be hated greatly for denying everyone what they want while being responsible for paying the bills and taking care of business. After all, when it comes down to it, I’m the dad of the operation. I don’t count.