[continued from Sept 2024 newsletter]
Dear friends from our days in the dorms at Cal Poly (1980-81) met my flight and drove me to my dad’s home. No one was there (George had taken Gene to the bank to get on his accounts). I waited. When they returned I was cordial but brisk and said I wanted time with my dad. George left to “run errands” (find some muscle). I quickly told my dad what I knew. The local police told me that George wasn’t even his real name. However, they could offer no help if he were in the residence. California has laws protecting the right to “squat” and there is no recourse for the actual owner once they have gotten inside. My dad was enraged that he’d been deceived by “his best friend” and said, “We can’t let him back inside.” He was fearful to even see him again. We quickly bagged George’s possessions and put them on the curb. When he returned, I was blocking the door. He blustered and threatened and I called the police. Since he was outside when they arrived he had no claim. They walked him through collecting things he claimed were his and then told him to leave. After he drove off, the cop said, “You are so lucky. These never end this well.”
The next day I had locks changed, got a restraining order, reported elder abuse, and visited the bank, accountant, and lawyer. Only the banker had suspected George, the lawyer and accountant both attempted to bill me for the services George had ordered! When I invoked elder abuse and mentioned the restraining order they shredded their bills.
I planned to stay a week sorting out the snarled mess of my dad’s home, bills, and finances. That didn’t scratch the surface I was realizing daily how much care he required. I soon saw that there was no way to keep him in his own home. I extended my unplanned trip another week.
During those two weeks I made a substantial dent needed repairs, hauling out several tons of accumulated possessions, getting myself appointed Power-of-Attorney, finding a realtor to sell the house, packing up to move dad home to Fayetteville, and so much more. Louise was interviewing care facilities, though we hoped to delay that by caring for him in our home as long as possible.
As long as possible turned out to be a week. He was so confused, had a hard time with our stairs, and we quickly saw that we were not the answer as primary caregivers. We managed to find him an assisted-living apartment in a wonderful place walking distance from our house. Initially, he was angry with me, but he has settled-in to become happy there. It is so good for him!
Louise and I both went back to California to finish settling the house and to fetch my dad’s cat, Romeo, for him. (Romeo and Dad are very happy bachelors together) We ended up hiring an Estate Sale service that totally empties the house and sells everything they can, donating the rest. God was good and we actually came out ahead. Even the piano sold (and apparently they almost never do). I sold both cars and some objects d’art. Other stuff we dragged home with us.
Getting his finances straightened out has been a huge mountain! I am still working on it every day. There are two (conflicting) trusts, many IRAs and CDs in his name, his wife’s and the Trusts. Sirima arranged everything with the assumption that she would survive Dad, and she saved money by using LegalZoom. She attempted to leave everything to a nephew in Sri Lanka. Between probate for what is now a foreign trust, double taxation, and other hurdles, it is very doubtful he will ever see any of it. It is a mess. Meanwhile, all that money is supposed to be Dad’s while he needs it (his care is $6000/mo) according to California Community Property law. I am having to convince the banks not to transfer it to Sri Lanka. Please pray.
Good news. The house was in the Hogan Family Trust and we will be able to use proceeds for his care. Today I heard that we are in escrow and the buyer removed all contingencies on an all-cash sale. Halleluyah! https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6242-Moonfield-Dr-Huntington-Beach-CA-92648/25288500_zpid/
It is a blessing to be able to serve and honor my father at this time. I barely saw him when I was a boy, so now I am getting all the contact I missed then. Smile . . .