Unwelcome Views

I was preparing for a trip to Florida just about a year ago. My aunt, who had lived there for many years had been reported to have some health problems, which she never indicated when she spoke with us. Some of her friends decided to tell us, and my cousin and I made a hurried five day trip to check on her.

What happened shortly after we left was a steady decline in my aunt's already failing health. Pat and I made another trip in May, accompanied by my cousin by marriage, Darald, who is Pat's brother-in-law. He was representing his wife, who stayed here with Pat's mother, my other aunt.

Without going into extreme detail, my aunt had hired an attorney, which, at best, could only be described as preying. No, you're not seeing a typo; I didn't mean "praying", but "preying". This attorney is one of those who gives all attorneys bad reputations.

My aunt had always been an independent thinker, and liberated long before it was acceptable. She believed strongly in helping women in business, thus, she hired this female attorney to represent her interests. Unfortunately, the attorney was one who made sure her bread was buttered whichever way would represent her office best, and the hell with the client she represented.

Case in point. I was my aunt's power of attorney. But, though I'd had that designation for over three years, I didn't know it. The attorney had advised my aunt to not tell me "until there was need for me to know, as sometimes relatives take advantage of the elderly in Florida." My aunt, sadly, believed her and did not disclose the legal necessities to me when she was in good health.

The problem with this is, once there was a need for me to know, it was too late; my aunt's dementia made it impossible for the necessary transfer papers to be signed so I could take over her affairs, bill paying, etc. There was no guarantee that she was in her "right mind", thus it ground things to a standstill.

My aunt passed away about 18 hours after we arrived in Florida. We firmly believe she waited till we arrived. It was a blessing for her to be at peace.

But what I wanted to tell you about was the attorney. We notified the law office shortly after we left the care facility. We were told by the attorney that we were not to "touch ANYTHING!" in hysterical tones. An appointment was made for the attorney and her husband to come to the condo the next day so they could 'inspect' the place.

As expected, they blew in, eyes squinted, looking high and low for anything of value. Were there antiques? Was there jewelry? Art? After all, my aunt's late spouse was a vice president with John Deere before he retired. She had to have money, right?

Well, she probably did at one time. But she'd also lived the good life. She received her husband's pension (part of his retirement package) and social security. Her condo had been paid off years before. Her expenses were minimal.

Of course, between February and May I'd found out a lot regarding my aunt's financial situation, even though I couldn't write checks due to the legal snafus, I knew she had very little to sustain her outside her monthly pension and social security.

But, did the lawyers believe us? Noooooooo...they thought we were holding out on them. Seldom have I had as much fun as I did that day, getting under someone's skin.

Oh, I was nice, polite and courteous. They of course, thought we were nothing but stupid Iowa hicks, fresh out of the cornfield. They were shocked when we knew our way around estate law better than they did.

But, I digress. The title of this is "unwelcome views". To this point, you might assume the unwelcome views are those of the attorney and husband who found we weren't as naive and back country as they thought. That's not the case at all, as you will see...and "see" is probably not the best word to use, either...but...well, you'll see.

Shyster attorney and her husband came gliding into the condo with their squinty eyes, surveying the domain they'd just overtaken by order of a carefully worded will which gave them all the power to dispose of anything their little hearts desired in whatever way their little hearts desired. (I have a suspicion that the 52" plasma television might be found in their house.)

They wanted to appear worldly and quite cosmopoliton to these Iowa hicks. He comes in wearing a pair of khaki slacks which hadn't seen pressing for quite some time, and a loud print shirt, that was supposed to scream "Florida" to us, but instead, just looked tacky. Socks? Nah...don't you know that beat up penny loafers are still the style? NOT. Even if they were, these shoes needed to be replaced badly. But, as I said, he was supposed to be giving us a 'chic' impression of well-off Floridians.

The attorney herself - she tried to do a little better. She had on a skirt, rumpled, but had put on a blazer which was ill-fitting. She had a lovely necklace on. I asked if I might look at it closer; she was glad to acquiesce to the poor little Iowa girl. It was a blue topaz, about 5 karats. Nice rock, probably retailed out in the neighborhood of somewhere between $450-700. She was shocked when I not only could identify the stone, but also had an idea of the karat weight and casually mentioned to my cousins what the retail price might be.

We all settled in the living room to discuss the estate. Pat and I settled in a couple of chairs, our other cousin settled on the loveseat, the attorney's husband sat in my aunt's chair, and the attorney sat across from Pat in another swivel rocker type chair. As we chatted, I noticed that Pat seemed to be tired, she kept tilting her head back against the chair, or she leaned her head into her hand, shading her eyes. I was worried about her; We'd had a couple of rough days on this trip.

Her restlessness continued. I wasn't sure what I could do, except ask her periodically if she was okay and if I could get her anything. Each time she shook her head and said no. After a couple of hours, we wrapped things up and the legal folks left.

Finally, I could "pounce" on Pat and get to the heart of things.

"Pat. Are you SURE you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Why were you so restless while the attorney was here? Were we overlooking something that needed to be asked?"

"No, no....but, you mean you didn't see it?" Darald and I looked at her, completely baffled.

Turns out that Pat, who was sitting across from the attorney for that two hour visit was completely out of sorts because, unbeknownst to Darald and I, had spent those two hours completely focused on trying not to look at the attorney, who, not only could not dress professionally, but apparently had decided that wearing underwear was really not necessary - and had never been taught that one should keep her legs closed.

It was a very unwelcome view...and was far more about the attorney than Pat ever wanted to know.