Aug. 28th, 2025 06:53 am
time to start
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k2daisyMy friend Jessie said something in her journal that spun my mind off in a semi-related direction, and rather than clog up her replies with an entirely self-focused response, I thought I would talk about it here. She was talking about being the responsible one in a crisis, the one everyone turns to for support, and how that feels from her perspective. And that got me thinking about my role as my parents' executor and primary caretaker of their home and the ending of their lives.
In 2022, my sister Kate and I traveled to Florida together (the first time we had ever done so) so Dad and Mom could go over all their papers with us. They had done their wills and POAs and even filled out Five Wishes booklets about what they wanted to happen when they were dying and after they died. They made me the primary executor, and then Kate if I could not do it, and Alison if Kate could not. The will split everything equally between us.
At the time, Kate was working as a principal of an elementary school while raising her two adult sons with her super-opinionated husband, and her bossy tendencies were way over the top. She just took charge of everything all the time; she knew everything about everything, she bossed us all around, took over chores and cooking without asking what anyone else wanted, and was overall a huge pain in my ass. Because my parents and she had lived in Connecticut near each other for decades, it felt to me like she thought she had a closer relationship with them than I did. But my parents had moved to Florida more than 10 years prior, and once they did, she rarely saw them. She talked to my mom every day, though.
Conversely, my relationship with my parents blossomed once they moved to Florida. It was easier and more pleasant to see them there instead of going to Connecticut and getting sucked into Kate's family's stuff, so I went more often. They traveled to Chicago often too. We talked about a lot of difficult topics, and I developed a real adult relationship with them both. I really enjoyed their company, which isn't something I could have said when I was younger.
Anyway, they named me the executor, but we all acted -- my parents as well as Kate and me -- like they appointed both of us. I low-key resented that at the time, because it felt like none of them trusted me to do it. (Like I was Alison, for Christ's sake.) I knew in my head that wasn't true, at least for my parents; by then they knew me a lot better, and knew that in my many jobs over my career, people always looked to me as the go-to support person. But to my sister, I was the one who moved away, who had multiple jobs, who had just left her current real job to do part-time reselling, who didn't have kids or "real" responsibilities like she did. (She never said those things, I am projecting.) Hell, I didn't even have to deal with Alison like she did, as my parents kept after her to help Ali out or keep open the lines of communication. They stopped asking that of me years before.
In the two years after that, Kate suffered through an emotional and mental breakdown, the stress of a horrendous work situation collapsing her stiff resolve and trashing her career. Meanwhile Mom and Dad started making baby steps toward moving closer to me. The dynamics were changing but at the time I didn't see it.
And then my Dad collapsed. Kate and I rushed down there the next day, and the 3 of us (me, Mom, and Kate) jelled together immediately to support each other and Dad. But Mom was leaning on me a bit more than Kate, mainly because I knew how hospitals worked and explained a lot to her. And then she asked me to stay with her the night Dad died, sending Kate home because she was so exhausted and worn out. After Dad died, Kate had to fly home immediately to go back to work, but I stayed with Mom. And then of course moved in with her when she got her terminal diagnosis the following week.
After that, there wasn't any doubt that I was the primary caretaker for everything: Mom, the money, the house, the dog, their lives. Kate made multiple trips to Florida, and we talked every day (still do!), but it was as my support. No bossiness at all.
I realized slowly over these last months that my parents trusted me all along too. They always tried to split things equally between us, so in hindsight of course they acted like they appointed Kate and me as dual executors. But they wanted it to be me. If they hadn't trusted me, they would have named Kate first in the order of succession. When push came to shove, Mom trusted me more than anyone else. Dad did too, I know that in my heart. One of the last things he said was that he wanted Mom to come live with me. I know he would appreciate my persistence in getting the roof permit resolved and the house sold. He knew Kris would get it done.
In hindsight, I had spent so many years being a little bit outside of my family, the one who lived far away for a very long time and didn't have the same shared memories and experiences they did, that I forgot they did see me as I see myself: a capable person they could rely on. Their eldest daugher they were always proud of.
Ok, that wasn't what I expected to talk about at all today. But now I have a hair appointment so it's too late to write more. It can wait for tomorrow.
In 2022, my sister Kate and I traveled to Florida together (the first time we had ever done so) so Dad and Mom could go over all their papers with us. They had done their wills and POAs and even filled out Five Wishes booklets about what they wanted to happen when they were dying and after they died. They made me the primary executor, and then Kate if I could not do it, and Alison if Kate could not. The will split everything equally between us.
At the time, Kate was working as a principal of an elementary school while raising her two adult sons with her super-opinionated husband, and her bossy tendencies were way over the top. She just took charge of everything all the time; she knew everything about everything, she bossed us all around, took over chores and cooking without asking what anyone else wanted, and was overall a huge pain in my ass. Because my parents and she had lived in Connecticut near each other for decades, it felt to me like she thought she had a closer relationship with them than I did. But my parents had moved to Florida more than 10 years prior, and once they did, she rarely saw them. She talked to my mom every day, though.
Conversely, my relationship with my parents blossomed once they moved to Florida. It was easier and more pleasant to see them there instead of going to Connecticut and getting sucked into Kate's family's stuff, so I went more often. They traveled to Chicago often too. We talked about a lot of difficult topics, and I developed a real adult relationship with them both. I really enjoyed their company, which isn't something I could have said when I was younger.
Anyway, they named me the executor, but we all acted -- my parents as well as Kate and me -- like they appointed both of us. I low-key resented that at the time, because it felt like none of them trusted me to do it. (Like I was Alison, for Christ's sake.) I knew in my head that wasn't true, at least for my parents; by then they knew me a lot better, and knew that in my many jobs over my career, people always looked to me as the go-to support person. But to my sister, I was the one who moved away, who had multiple jobs, who had just left her current real job to do part-time reselling, who didn't have kids or "real" responsibilities like she did. (She never said those things, I am projecting.) Hell, I didn't even have to deal with Alison like she did, as my parents kept after her to help Ali out or keep open the lines of communication. They stopped asking that of me years before.
In the two years after that, Kate suffered through an emotional and mental breakdown, the stress of a horrendous work situation collapsing her stiff resolve and trashing her career. Meanwhile Mom and Dad started making baby steps toward moving closer to me. The dynamics were changing but at the time I didn't see it.
And then my Dad collapsed. Kate and I rushed down there the next day, and the 3 of us (me, Mom, and Kate) jelled together immediately to support each other and Dad. But Mom was leaning on me a bit more than Kate, mainly because I knew how hospitals worked and explained a lot to her. And then she asked me to stay with her the night Dad died, sending Kate home because she was so exhausted and worn out. After Dad died, Kate had to fly home immediately to go back to work, but I stayed with Mom. And then of course moved in with her when she got her terminal diagnosis the following week.
After that, there wasn't any doubt that I was the primary caretaker for everything: Mom, the money, the house, the dog, their lives. Kate made multiple trips to Florida, and we talked every day (still do!), but it was as my support. No bossiness at all.
I realized slowly over these last months that my parents trusted me all along too. They always tried to split things equally between us, so in hindsight of course they acted like they appointed Kate and me as dual executors. But they wanted it to be me. If they hadn't trusted me, they would have named Kate first in the order of succession. When push came to shove, Mom trusted me more than anyone else. Dad did too, I know that in my heart. One of the last things he said was that he wanted Mom to come live with me. I know he would appreciate my persistence in getting the roof permit resolved and the house sold. He knew Kris would get it done.
In hindsight, I had spent so many years being a little bit outside of my family, the one who lived far away for a very long time and didn't have the same shared memories and experiences they did, that I forgot they did see me as I see myself: a capable person they could rely on. Their eldest daugher they were always proud of.
Ok, that wasn't what I expected to talk about at all today. But now I have a hair appointment so it's too late to write more. It can wait for tomorrow.
no subject
This whole period must have been quite the experience and I'm so glad you had the realizations you did. (And SO glad your parents had you and realized what they needed and wanted.) I hope that helps a lot moving forward. {{{K}}}
no subject
My mom had her regular tri-monthly CT scan the Friday morning that my dad collapsed. They came home from the appointment, he laid down for a nap, and woke up in terrible pain (his aorta dissected). He was in various ICUs all weekend as he got worse. On Monday/Tuesday, her doctors were calling to make an appointment to discuss her results, but she told them her husband was critically ill and she couldn't think about it this week, so they made the appointment for the following week. He died on Thursday. She went to the appointment the next Tuesday, and found out the esophageal cancer had metastasized to her liver.
I was actually at home at that moment; she wanted a week by herself just to let it sink in a little that he was gone. And then I was supposed to come down there and help her pack and prep the house for sale, so she and Molly could move up by me. She didn't think the appointment was going to be a big deal, she had them all the time. The neighbor went with her just to help her physically navigate the drive and the office. I was literally looking at apartments for her with a realtor when she called with the CT results. We were all stunned.
I think about that a lot; the ICU doc said to us that my dad had "ticking time bombs" in him -- the dissected aorta, the brain bleed, and uncontrolled hypertenstion -- and between the 3 of them there was nothing they could do. I think about that moment when we stood here, holding hands and listening to the doctor, and not knowing she had one inside her too -- at the exact same time my dad did.
no subject