Then she started getting better...
According to Al, Diane was actually getting better and they were looking for a way to get her home. That was going to be a chore, since she'd need to fly with a doctor and nurse in a hospital plane, which meant they had to wait for an injured solider needing to return to Oklahoma or the vicinity. Once here, arrangements had been made for Diane to move to a an extended care hospital (since she would likely spend the rest of her life on a ventilator) in OKC and then to a full, long term care facility in Tulsa. According to Al, some of Diane's coherence and sense of humor (as it was) had returned too, since, while communicating via notes, she wrote down a request for a cigarette. Knowing Diane as I did, I bet she was serious!
As Al calls with updates, he also shares little tidbits that he'd come across. Among them, while Diane told Al she'd quit smoking, he'd discovered from talking with friends around the hood that she'd simply go down the street and mooch smokes off a neighbor and smoke in their house. Something else he discovered was that Diane would often go to the casino with her yard man. Through it all, Al was still sick over the fact that all Diane's stuff had been sold while she was still alive and that her coming "home" to find that out was "going to kill her." He was also convinced Michael had just pocketed all the money. Either way, I didn't care...I was out of this deal. Though I was glad Diane was recovering, the most life she was going to recover would be to spend her remaining days in a hospital hooked to a ventilator. Ultimately, she was well enough that plans were made for her to fly in a plane to drop off an injured soldier in Arkansas, and then they would would fly Diane back here.
My concern with the whole Diane situation went straight to zero on October 3rd, when my Dad had a mini-stroke and was hospitalized. After visiting him in the hospital on Friday morning, I get home to a message from Al and a call from my Uncle Ray informing me that Diane had died. Apparently, just three days before she would return to Oklahoma, she'd developed an infection her body had no ability to fight off.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Second Hand Smoke
Al gives me the phone number of Diane's brother Michael. Based on what Al had told me, Michael didn't have much time for Diane and I honestly didn't expect much. If nothing else, I just wanted him to be aware of the situation.
So I once again had the pleasure of calling someone out of the blue and telling them Diane was indeed going to lose her house along with many of the sordid details. When I drop the f-word (foreclosure), I hear a female gasp on the line and find that Michael's wife Leigh was listening in and jumped into the discussion. I wind up on the phone with them for over an hour and they both recognize the immediate need to get Diane's stuff out before the sheriff comes in. Much to my surprise, they're gonna take over the show. Initially, they think it might be a project they could do with my help. I enlist my cousin Mark (who had foolishly offered to help wherever needed) and his son to help out. Fortunately, Michael calls back a couple days later and tells me they were going to take a bit of time and figure the best way to proceed. Fine by me, because this meant I was out of this loop! Thinking back, I remember it was odd that Michael expressed concern about the cost of a funeral during this initial conversation...
During this time, Diane's condition hadn't gotten any better. After some ups and downs, she was downgraded again and was in the middle level of Walter's Reed's ICU. She was not all that coherent and they had a positive pressure oxygen mask on her which, if she removed it and tried to talk, she'd start losing consciousness in 10-15 seconds due to lack of oxygen. They think they've done all they can for her and, since she can't fly home, she will likely be moved to a extended care nursing facility. Her prognosis for any form of recovery is not good.
A few days later, Al calls and tells me he had let Michael in the house so that he could collect any pertinent paperwork ( I had offered everything I had, as well). Apparently, Al and Michael got into some kind of a row during Michael's visit stemming from Al's annoyance at Michaels' lack of concern for his sister and greater emphasis on gathering documents. Shortly thereafter Al tells me of an argument he had with Leigh over the phone where she warned him (Al) not to talk to me. So now I don't know if they're cutting me out because they don't trust me or if they're trying to get away with something of their own. But, either way, I don't care because this is no longer my problem.
A week or two goes by and I hadn't heard anything back from Michael and Leigh, save for a message from Leigh telling me they'd bought a couple extra weeks of time. Then I get a call from Al telling me an estate sale sign was up in Diane's yard. An estate sale was an alternative I'd looked into where a company came in, took everything out, warehoused it, and then sold it after Diane's return or passing.
Hearing this, my first call was to Mark Price, the attorney who handled George's estate. I apprised him of the situation (that is, Diane's brother selling her stuff while she's still alive) and asked if I had any options to step in and stop it. Unfortunately, as a non-blood relative, the law would give preference to the next of kin, blood relative. Price said that, even though Michael's actions were pushing the envelope of legality, his best advice to me was to walk away, figuring that by assuming her estate he (Michael) would also assume dealing with her debts and liabilities. Further, if there was anything me or anyone in the family wanted that might have been Mamaw's or Papaw's, I should just go and buy it.
Since, outside of a Hummel nativity scene and a little Toby mug, I had no clue what was Mamaw's and Papaw's, I pretty much decided just to let it all go. Seeing how being honest didn't pay, I decided to cruise over there one night to see if I could just help myself to the plaque on the door (that read, "The George Flanagans" which was really the only thing I wanted from that house). With power drill in hand, I was pleasantly surprised to see the estate sale people had left the storm door unlocked. Opening the door and pulling back the sea shell wreath on the door, I was dismayed to see that Diane had already removed it, probably when all the process servers started showing up.
In a perfect world, my hope was brother Michael would put the money he realized from this sale in a trust to pay Diane's debts and expenses. However, my darkest fear was that, when she did pass, he might pocket the money, claim no interest in the matter and try to bury her with no decent funeral or just ignore it completely and leave it all to our side of the family. Unfortunately, the law can't act on perceived intent and I didn't have much of a leg to stand on.
Finally, a day or two before the estate sale, Leigh calls me and tells me about it. I was comforted that she called and I tell her I'm not happy they're doing it while she was still alive, but that I can understand they're in the same boat I am, in that, why should they spend their money to move and warehouse all that stuff and then worry about selling it. She reassured me they were going to put any funds realized aside to pay for any funeral or other expenses Diane might incur.
The sale worked out well for us, as Jennifer went early to try and snag any silver that might have been Mamaw's and, when she told them who she was, they gave her a bag of stuff they were going to toss, including my Mother's baby book with locks of her hair and her baptismal dress! I went over on closing day Saturday and bought an old cabinet at a deep discount...
So I once again had the pleasure of calling someone out of the blue and telling them Diane was indeed going to lose her house along with many of the sordid details. When I drop the f-word (foreclosure), I hear a female gasp on the line and find that Michael's wife Leigh was listening in and jumped into the discussion. I wind up on the phone with them for over an hour and they both recognize the immediate need to get Diane's stuff out before the sheriff comes in. Much to my surprise, they're gonna take over the show. Initially, they think it might be a project they could do with my help. I enlist my cousin Mark (who had foolishly offered to help wherever needed) and his son to help out. Fortunately, Michael calls back a couple days later and tells me they were going to take a bit of time and figure the best way to proceed. Fine by me, because this meant I was out of this loop! Thinking back, I remember it was odd that Michael expressed concern about the cost of a funeral during this initial conversation...
During this time, Diane's condition hadn't gotten any better. After some ups and downs, she was downgraded again and was in the middle level of Walter's Reed's ICU. She was not all that coherent and they had a positive pressure oxygen mask on her which, if she removed it and tried to talk, she'd start losing consciousness in 10-15 seconds due to lack of oxygen. They think they've done all they can for her and, since she can't fly home, she will likely be moved to a extended care nursing facility. Her prognosis for any form of recovery is not good.
A few days later, Al calls and tells me he had let Michael in the house so that he could collect any pertinent paperwork ( I had offered everything I had, as well). Apparently, Al and Michael got into some kind of a row during Michael's visit stemming from Al's annoyance at Michaels' lack of concern for his sister and greater emphasis on gathering documents. Shortly thereafter Al tells me of an argument he had with Leigh over the phone where she warned him (Al) not to talk to me. So now I don't know if they're cutting me out because they don't trust me or if they're trying to get away with something of their own. But, either way, I don't care because this is no longer my problem.
A week or two goes by and I hadn't heard anything back from Michael and Leigh, save for a message from Leigh telling me they'd bought a couple extra weeks of time. Then I get a call from Al telling me an estate sale sign was up in Diane's yard. An estate sale was an alternative I'd looked into where a company came in, took everything out, warehoused it, and then sold it after Diane's return or passing.
Hearing this, my first call was to Mark Price, the attorney who handled George's estate. I apprised him of the situation (that is, Diane's brother selling her stuff while she's still alive) and asked if I had any options to step in and stop it. Unfortunately, as a non-blood relative, the law would give preference to the next of kin, blood relative. Price said that, even though Michael's actions were pushing the envelope of legality, his best advice to me was to walk away, figuring that by assuming her estate he (Michael) would also assume dealing with her debts and liabilities. Further, if there was anything me or anyone in the family wanted that might have been Mamaw's or Papaw's, I should just go and buy it.
Since, outside of a Hummel nativity scene and a little Toby mug, I had no clue what was Mamaw's and Papaw's, I pretty much decided just to let it all go. Seeing how being honest didn't pay, I decided to cruise over there one night to see if I could just help myself to the plaque on the door (that read, "The George Flanagans" which was really the only thing I wanted from that house). With power drill in hand, I was pleasantly surprised to see the estate sale people had left the storm door unlocked. Opening the door and pulling back the sea shell wreath on the door, I was dismayed to see that Diane had already removed it, probably when all the process servers started showing up.
In a perfect world, my hope was brother Michael would put the money he realized from this sale in a trust to pay Diane's debts and expenses. However, my darkest fear was that, when she did pass, he might pocket the money, claim no interest in the matter and try to bury her with no decent funeral or just ignore it completely and leave it all to our side of the family. Unfortunately, the law can't act on perceived intent and I didn't have much of a leg to stand on.
Finally, a day or two before the estate sale, Leigh calls me and tells me about it. I was comforted that she called and I tell her I'm not happy they're doing it while she was still alive, but that I can understand they're in the same boat I am, in that, why should they spend their money to move and warehouse all that stuff and then worry about selling it. She reassured me they were going to put any funds realized aside to pay for any funeral or other expenses Diane might incur.
The sale worked out well for us, as Jennifer went early to try and snag any silver that might have been Mamaw's and, when she told them who she was, they gave her a bag of stuff they were going to toss, including my Mother's baby book with locks of her hair and her baptismal dress! I went over on closing day Saturday and bought an old cabinet at a deep discount...
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