the gRumpcAst

I was at the hospital when my friend died.  With her lawyer’s blessing, I took custody of her purse and went to my friends  home to read the notebook.  There was a little confusion about her will.  Several people remembered comments about her having hidden her will in a variety of strange places.  We searched pretty throughly and finally found it in her file cabinet in a folder labeled “Last Will and Testament”.

I attended a parochial school until 6th grade.  I remember the Roman Catholic priest who taught my religion class very well.  During one class he shared what he thought the origin of the word “testament” was.  According to the priest, it came from ancient Greece where when a man wanted to swear that something was true, he would point to his testicles and say “cut them off if I’m lying.  I remember the priest pointing to his crotch as he told the story.

That first day, we collected the will, the notebook, and some of my friends financial records.   Over the next few days, we collected and secured the most valuable assets.  Jewelry and small things went to a safe deposit box rented by the estate.  Big things like fancy china were packed and stored at neighbors houses.

We had the locks changed but one day, found that someone had gotten in the house.  We found what appeared to be the remains of a coin collection on the kitchen table.  None of those of us who were caring for the house had seen it before and I had the only key.  The cops were called and a nice deputy came out.  He noticed that one side of a pair of locked French doors could be opened by shaking the doorknob.

According to the deputy, burglary of the homes of the newly deceased is quite common in our part of the planet and I suspect, around the world.

The rss feeds for this podcast and blog are not working correctly right now.  I’m working on the problem.

Dave

Last summer, my friend died. She had a heart condition and had beaten the odds for several years. She died riding on her exercise bike. I’m not blaming the bike. My friend, given her heart problems, had way outlived her statistical probability. I think that the bike and her general positive attitude toward life kept her going.But this story is not about my friend or about death, it’s about the practical side of death for those left behind. A few years ago, my friend, during a visit at her house, showed me a notebook that she kept in her bookshelf. “When I die”, my friend said, “come and get this book and do what it says.”

When she died, I picked up her personal effects from the hospital and along with her lawyer, went to her home and read the notebook.

My friend was smart and organized. In the notebook was a list of people to notify, the location of her legal documents, and a list of her financial assets.

This is the beginning of a longer piece I’m writing. I’ll be posting additions to this piece with the category code of “dwtd” (dancing with the dead). I welcome comments, corrections, suggestions and encouragement.

More to come