Excuses to Run

Tom Volkar had an interesting post today on excuses.

I'm with him on this.

But for me, I was overtaken earlier with the most uncomfortable feeling—I call it the Crawlies. It's a restlessness that can only be described as wanting to rip my skin off and run like hell, far, far away. I've traced it back to feeling extreme pressure from the obligations imposed upon me.

So I went and sat outside in the sunshine for a good hour. (OK, five minutes in the sun, the rest in the shade because I was starting to smoke. Kidding. Kind of.)

I feel calmer now. But still somewhat restless. There are so many obligations. Too many. I have become consumed by them. The past 2.8 years of my life have been about these obligations—the decline and deaths of my parents, the estate settlement, the real estate (three houses: Grandma's which is being sold from the estate, my personal home which is being sold because I no longer live in it, and the parental home that is mortgage-free that I now live in though the deed has yet to be transferred), the "stuff"(parental leavings and my own material chaos), the finances, now the fire at Grandma's and the insurance issues and investigation, the legal issues with regard to the estate...

The endless worry, the hours spent in offices waiting, waiting, waiting... it began with hours in doctor's offices then hours in emergency rooms, then hours in the nursing home, then hours in the lawyer's and the insurance company and the bank... hours of contracts, of negotiations, of arguments with no resolution in sight, and on it has gone from December 2005 to today. At the end of the day I find myself exhausted from the stress that has become my self-definition.

My life, my truth, what defines ME, has become swallowed up by these things, and they are NOT my obligations. They were inherited by me. They were thrust upon me without my permission, and they are obligations that must be seen through to the end, which was supposed to have happened by all accounts months ago and seems to drag into eternity, winding down in increments.

I cannot walk away.

Or...

...can I?

I wonder... what would be the worst thing to happen if I did?

If I said to my sister, I have been the active go-to gal for all of the estate-related stuff for 2.8 years—you've been the passive one whose duties include nothing but speaking vetos and stalling and resisting and co-signing checks and demanding equal distribution without coming up with a logical way to make that happen and reminding me constantly of what other estate issue I need to figure out how to solve next, then after handing me the enormous checklist of stuff you've "delegated" to me due to proximity, as an afterthought making the laughable suggestion that it's time for me to look for a job (as if there's time for both—honey, don't you realize, this IS my job?)—

Well, dear sister, how about YOU take over the active role from here on out?

What would you say? I would say, You wanted equality, HERE, you do it for the next 2.8 years and we'll be equal... but what would YOU say?

Would you say, Oh, no, you're doing such a great job, you keep doing it? Would you say, Oh, I can't possibly, because I have a job and therefore am exempt but you, you're still unemployed, you have all the free time necessary to do it? (as if my dreams and desires have no importance at all) Or would you say, Sure, glad to, please go live your own life for a change, you have gone above and beyond and it's my turn now?

Would you be surprised, if you did take over these duties, to discover that there is now no time in your day to devote to your vitally-important day job, that every waking hour manages to be devoured by little errands that shouldn't, in theory, take more than a few minutes but always wind up occupying considerably longer chunks of your day than you ever thought possible?

I mean, how long does it take to close three accounts and transfer the funds into an estate account? Ten minutes, right?

Try an HOUR. One whole hour of my precious life yesterday spent sitting alone in a banker's office while they hunt down signature cards, make calls to corporate to remove the dormancy status, to fill out paperwork... and that's just ONE of the many "little errands" that I'm saddled with as the active executress of this estate. There are dozens of them, and once complete, another dozen crop up to take their place.

But I'm unemployed, so I have nothing better to do with my time, right?

And would you be surprised, dear sister, and just how long it actually takes to sort through, all by yourself, 60 years' worth of accumulated STUFF that has to be distributed and set aside because SOME people might want some of it but they can't come look at it right now because of their all-important jobs and families so just set it somewhere until it's convenient? Would you be surprised at the sheer volume of boxes it can occupy? Would you be surprised by the discontent you feel at being surrounded for months by box upon box of stuff? Never mind sorting your OWN accumulations.

This is what happens when a person with a fairly saturated three-bedroom, one basement, one garage home has to move it all overnight (because of the terminal diagnosis and caretaking needs of another following the death of the spouse) into another three-bedroom, no basement, no garage home that is already saturated with the detritus of TWO people who have lived for more than 80 years each and have kept everything they've acquired along the way in no particular state of logical organization so that whomever winds up with it has to sort through and separate each piece of junk mingled in with the "important" stuff.

Yes, I realize I've succumbed to trading good grammatical sentence structure in favor of a string of horrible run-on sentences, but this is what happens during a stream-of-consciousness rant. Get over it.

What would happen if I just said NO MORE to all of this?

What would happen if I just started chucking stuff, packed up the stuff in the house that's important to ME and only me, and moved to my target city, just all of a sudden? No warning, no explanation? Took a job, dropped this nonsense like a hot potato? Left the detritus behind for someone else to deal with? Pursued my dreams and forgot all about real estate? Allowed my personal house to fall victim to foreclosure if it didn't sell quickly enough to allow me to recoup my costs? Prioritized the activities that lead to MY dreams, MY life, MY happiness? Just let someone else take over?

What's the worst that could happen if I let go of all of this and ran?

Would the world come to an end?

No.

Would nobody else be able to figure this out?

No. Others are just as capable of asking questions and ferreting out information as I am. It helps that I'm in the same city as the estate lawyer, but the estate house that's being sold is 200 miles south of here. The other house I'm selling is 30 miles north of here. I've been handling most of my business long distance, anyway. Certainly someone who is 300 miles from both places (the sister) could handle it just as readily. Certainly if I were 500 miles away in my new home, I could still manage to sell my old house.

What is the worst that could happen? Is my proximity to all of this really THAT necessary? Is it necessary for me to sacrifice my well-being and happiness to fulfill these unwanted obligations?

Maybe it fell to me because my abilities are more geared towards such stuff. Maybe it would fall to ruin if my sister tried to do it. (I have evidence that her abilities are better suited to other things.) But certainly situations such as this have been handled by less-qualified individuals before...

Or perhaps I could still perform my duties at the lowest level possible, despite having relocated?

The downside would be, I'd have a third empty property to worry about, AND I'd have the addition of my new residence elsewhere. I'd be adding a property even if it is a rental unit. I'm already overwhelmed trying to keep up with paying the insurance on three houses, the property taxes on two (though some of it comes from the estate), the utilities on three (basic necessities must be intact like electric/water when selling, plus my personal utilties), and so on. And that's without a job. Living on dwindling savings, waiting for the properties to sell so the estate can wrap up so I can be blessed with the financial windfall that's been earmarked for me for years now and so I can finally be free to get a career going again and be self-sufficient, rebuild my reserves.

My rainy day fund? It rained so hard these past two years that now I'm down to the last drops and there's a drought ahead. It absolutely must improve soon. Every time I try to focus on activities and actions toward my career goals or even a basic job hunt, that damned estate pops up and distracts me and yet another crisis demands my attention until the day is gone.

I need a nap all of a sudden. Maybe running isn't the solution. But... no matter how much I've visualized, set intentions, or prayed, it seems to be taking forever. What I really need to have happen is the elimination of two of the three properties. I don't need to add a fourth, I need to be relieved of two of the three! BE GONE! BE SOLD! Free me!!! LET ME GO!

Then I'll be free to run.

On Inheritances

Note: this is an import from my previous blog

What does inheritance mean to you?

Is an inheritance something that you earn? A reward for "good behavior" over the course of a lifetime? Something parents are obligated to grant to their children? Something that children "deserve" to get?

We've all heard the story of the Prodigal Son. How his brothers were mad when he returned after years away and was greeted warmly by their father, welcomed back into the fold, and generously bequeathed a third of his father's estate. His brothers were pissed. They thought they'd be getting half each. They felt cheated. But the moral of the story is about forgiveness and acceptance, that no matter how far away you travel or how long you are gone, a father's love is always there when you need it.

But look at it from the brothers' point of view. They spent all their time slaving away for their father, pouring sweat equity into what they thought they would one day split equally. To have this interloper show up at a conveniently opportune time (right before the father kicked it), then be granted a third of the estate when he'd contributed nothing to the deal? Preposterous! Obstruction of justice! Unfair! The Prodigal Son didn't "earn" it.

The father didn't see it that way. The father wanted to bless ALL of his children equally. The brothers already thought of the estate as theirs and they didn't want to give up an inch.

Is an inheritance negotiable? Is a Will merely a politeness? Or is it set in stone that this document must be interpreted as written by the deceased?

During this past year, I've been involved in a squabble over the distribution of my parents' estate. This was not something I consciously wanted, mind you. But somehow I attracted it to myself.

The conflict was generated by my sibling, my Mother's biological daughter, who is considerably older than I am. We have always been on good terms, or so I thought. I also thought I knew her. But perhaps growing up under two separate roofs had a detrimental effect on our relationship. She was already graduated and in college when I arrived, so we were both raised as only children. We never had sibling rivalry, or were able to forge that special "us against the 'rents" bond that hopefully occurs between siblings of the same generation. I thought I knew her... until the crisis of a lifetime happened, and she didn't react at all like my parents and I expected. We expected everyone to rally and come together in a crisis.

The opposite happened. True colors and selfishness reared their ugly heads. While my Dad was ill and my Mother panicked and dependent, it fell on me to provide 99% of their care, handle their finances, and make sure things functioned as they should while we waited for what we thought would be Dad's eventual return to the helm of the family. I was happy to step in temporarily. The rest of the family was greatly relieved that I had it all under control and as was said to me more than once, "I'm so glad you're there to deal with this (not me)". We never anticipated that he'd die a few months later. Or that Mother would be diagnosed with terminal cancer and four months to live mere weeks after his passing.

The point of the squabble is that my sister feels shortchanged in some way, though my Mother was very fair and divided the estate in half: one half to me, one half to her. The estate includes two houses, some antiques, and a chunk of cash. I was granted the right to take part of my share in real estate, to claim one of the houses as a permanent home, and the other is on the market with proceeds from the sale to be split equally after taking into consideration the value of the home I chose. To each receive half makes us each quite well-off for a bit and gives us the boost we'd need to jumpstart whatever dreams we may have. So what's the problem?

Somehow, the situation has turned into a negotiation for redistribution of the shares, courtesy of my sister. Questions about our personal situations and finances have been brought in by my sister in an attempt to support the argument that she "needs" the money more than I do, therefore she should get "more". I have been running interference, conversing with the lawyer to remind him that this is a WILL, not a business contract or sale, and that it should not be interpreted based on who has the better sob story or claims to be worse off. I'm trying to ward off bad vibes by not saying how I really feel about this development, but let's just say, it affects my happiness and my comfort level.

It occurred to me today that this is completely counter to what an inheritance is all about. It's not a reward. It's not an obligation. It's not something we children deserve, or should expect, or demand.

An inheritance is a GIFT.

Our parents did not HAVE to leave us anything. There was no obligation to leave it to us. They could have said sell off both houses, and donate all the money to cancer research or charity. But they didn't—they passed it on to us AS A GIFT. An extremely generous, profoundly moving, final farewell gift that originated in their hearts because they love us and because the only thing they ever wanted was to see us happy and fulfilled. Their hope was that by giving us these things, we would be elevated to a better place, we would have enough money to jump start our dreams, we'd have a place to live if we needed it—they were taking care of us.

To "negotiate" a "better" or "more fair" share of this is to completely disrespect the gift and dishonor our parents. THIS is why it upsets me so much. Instead of squabbling over whether my piece of pie is a molecule larger than hers, we should be celebrating! We should be accepting the gift as Mother wanted it to be given to us, with an attitude of utter gratefulness and grace! We should be thankful that, number one, they left us anything at all, and that two, they had so much to leave to us! There is MORE than enough there to make us both comfortable. There is more than enough there to give both of us a much-needed boost into a better life.

I question why I seem to be the only one who sees it this way. I'm happy to be getting anything at all. She's complaining that it's not enough and that troubles me and I'm finding it a challenge to understand her behavior.

The point is, an inheritance is not a business contract, not an earned reward, nor is it a negotiable instrument. It is a gift to us from our parents. Those of us who have been blessed with a gift such as this would do well to remember that it is a gift freely given, and honor it and receive it graciously and gratefully, no matter how big or small it is, how valuable, or what form it takes.