Part 3 — Who Rose Named As Trustee
Mike stood up from the table with his napkin still in his hand. He looked at the last page, then at me, and asked in a small voice, Mom, why isnt my name on this?
The second trustee was Emma. My nineteen year old granddaughter, the one who squeezed my hand under the table when nobody else would meet my eyes.
I told them the reason, plainly and without raising my voice. Frank and I set up that trust in 2019 and named the two people we trusted to ask me what I wanted before they decided anything. Emma was only twelve when I first mentioned it, and she was still the one I trusted most.
Mike sat back down slowly. He said, You did not trust me? I said, Michael, I trusted you with my heart. A trustee has to be able to say no to a wife, a realtor and a deadline, and your father knew that was harder for you than for most.
Tiffany tried to speak, and I asked her kindly to wait. I explained that the trust document gave me the right to live in the house as long as I wished, and gave the trustees the duty to keep it that way.
A power of attorney lets someone help with your bills; it was never meant to let anyone decide where you sleep.
On Monday morning, my attorney, Mr. Sobol, sent Tiffany a polite letter. It ended her authority as my agent under the power of attorney and asked for a written accounting of everything she had handled since my surgery.
The accounting was honest, mostly. She had paid my bills on time, but she had also spoken with two realtors and signed a listing agreement she was not entitled to sign. Mr. Sobol had the agreement cancelled, and she paid the cancellation fee herself.
Tiffany came to my kitchen the next week. She did not make excuses. She said she had been frightened about the stairs and the cost of a fall, and that she had let fear talk louder than I did.
I told her I understood fear, and that I would gladly take a stair lift, a grab bar and a cleaning lady over a bingo hall I had not chosen. She cried, and I handed her a dish towel.
Emma moved into the downstairs study that fall, to be near campus and near me. We cook Sunday dinner together, and Mike sets the table, which he does with great care.
Frank built that table to last a hundred years. I intend to see that it does, with the right people sitting around it.