The Joys of Being the Power of Attorney and Meditation


It’s a funny thing, being someone’s Power of Attorney.  I have a fiduciary responsibility for Mom’s money, so I can’t dish out a of cent of it without some sort of accountability.  I’m generous with bro’s spending because he’s the one there and organizing the medical end.  I don’t even question questionable purchases he makes, even though I’m shaking my head as I pay them.  As long as there’s accountability in the form of a paper trail, I’m fairly flexible with him.  His job is the medical end of things, my job is to make sure the money is there so he can do whatever he thinks is best for Mom.  Until the money runs low, I don’t plan to be heavy-handed with him.

God made me the youngest but he/she/it also made me the child with the common sense and the logical, independent mind.  Why oh why??  Some days I want to be like other youngest girls — pretty dancing girls, spoiled, nutured, and loved the most.  That was not to be, though, and although working and saving hard my whole life has brought me into a greater state of strength and independence than my brothers, I find that it has also brought me into a place where I feel that I’m the only one who has the ability to manage Mom’s money responsibly, and it’s a lonely place.

That means there are times that I have to put my foot down and say “no”.  Bro now wants me to pay some high school girls lump sums of money for services they gave Mom on nonspecific days and times.  He gave me no addresses, SSN, or phone numbers and could not provide me with any more information on when these services were done.  He wants me to write out the checks and send them to him instead of to them directly.  And now he’s flaming me because I told him “no documentation, no payments”.  He then threw me a phone number and said “you call them and get whatever you need from them and pay them!”.  He wants ME to call THEM to find out whatever they did and when, and then pay them.

Since when did it become my responsibility to call people up so I could get the information to write an invoice to myself so I can pay them!  I told him that if they want to get paid, they’ll get the information I need and send it to ME.  I’m not going to lift a finger to dig this up.

It sucks to be in this position where I’m having to take a professional seat and manage the estate with a family that sees it as anything but business.  It’s like I’m in a Family Feud game where it’s a game to everyone else to see how far they can push me while I’m trying to conduct a business, constantly working to make the many financial issues run smoothly.

Today I understand why life is so hard for me.  When I was young, my father used to make me do things over and over and over and over — whether it was writing a check out for him, or swinging a golf club, or playing a song on the piano.  He forced me to repeat everything until it was perfect.  He made every single thing I did outside of my bedroom horrible pressure.  The only joy in my life was in the corner of my bedroom where I would do solitary projects, dreading that knock on my door.

I don’t want to have that sort of pressure in my life, and I prayed every day of my life for Dad to be gone so that pressure would be gone.  But he’s been dead for over a decade and now I find that I still have that sense of needing perfection.  It’s doing Mom justice that I’m this way, but neither one of my brothers really give a shit about this and I feel like I’m fighting an uphill current and barely able keep my head above water.

I need a Powers of Attorney support group!  Now excuse me while I go and sit in the corner of my closet and meditate…

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The Joys of Being the Power of Attorney and Meditation

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