So I caught up with my friend Steve the other day, after a radio silence of a few months. He's now retired as a Miami Dade cop, on account of a crippling neurological condition -- still not definitively diagnosed.
He played football through early college, and was a local star in high school, and at first it seemed he had chronic traumatic encephalopathy -- the condition many ex football players get from repeated concussions. It seemed he also had an overlay of clinical depression.
But last time we spoke, he asked me if I knew what Lewy Body Disease was -- apparently a neurologist thinks his signs and symptoms point to that. Sadly, I did know, on account of Robin Williams -- it's a very fast moving sort of dementia -- Alzheimers on speed, I read one doctor call it. It can only be confirmed on autopsy -- I sure hope the person who thinks he has that is wrong.
I saw Steve in a Homestead nursing home -- one that specializes in younger patients with cognitive issues. I've been in worse places, but it was still depressing. I noticed a long line at the hair salon on premises. I learned it's because none of the residents are allowed to have any scissors or razors of any type, lest they be used for suicide or homicide. Caramba.
But Steve made it home -- with full time aides during the day, and his longtime girlfriend watching him at night. Fortunately, he has plenty of money, even though he divorced years ago. He always worked off dury like a banshee, and built up a retirement account equal to many doctors and lawyers I know. He also owns his house outright, which, in crazy priced Miami, is now worth likely $1.5M.
So with millions at stake, of course there are issues. He has a grown daughter who he raised, and one about the same age that he learned about years after his, well, little adventure with her hotel manager mother. Sadly, he's estranged from both of his daughters.
Years ago, I referred Steve to my friend who is a financial guy, and that friend, along with Steve's brother, has been managing his finances. Now, apparently, he is planning to marry his long time girlfriend. I had thought Steve was put into a guardianship, but I was mistaken -- so he is free to marry, and change finances, etc.
I think he plans to disinherit his daughters, and leave everything to his soon to be wife. It's an age-old story.
Wifey totally gets it, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I die first, and the Ds don't visit and take care of her, "They get nothing!" I asked about potentially innocent grandkids. Wifey paused -- well, maybe THEY would get her inheritance.
I told her about Shaq, and his recent pronouncement that he was financially cutting off his son, who he sent through college and was now just sort of drifting along. The son protested -- what about the family wealth? Shaq said: "WE ain't rich. I'M rich. You done, lazy ass."
Steve's money questions may well become moot, if he lives a long time. The cost for private attendant care has a way of whittling down even 7 figure investment accounts sooner than later.
As for me, if Wifey departs this mortal coil first, I can't imagine anything my Ds could do that would make me disinherit them. I wouldn't WANT them to become my caretaker -- that's a job that would be handled by a gorgeous if not necessarily well trained Latina nurse. I mean, ya gotta have SOMETHING to look forward to, right? Not that I am doing any advanced planning in that regard...
My friend Stu and I talked about it last night. He called while I was walking the enormous puppy Betsy, staying here with D2 and Jonathan visit Atlanta for a wedding. Stu's take is that if his kids didn't talk to him, it would probably be HIS fault. Luckily, he is quite close with his young entrepreneur son and high school senior daughter.
Stu also said that if money was what made one happy -- he could never truly be happy. That had to come from your life's loves -- and your own appreciation of each day you're above ground, or not a sack of cremains (there's one of my favorite words again!).
Anyway, I plan to go visit Steve later this am. The visits aren't enjoyable -- he rambles on, repeating himself a lot. Worse, the fun memories we share are largely lost to him.
He and I used to bring out the adolescents in each other. One year, at Halloween, we realized we couldn't stand the same lady -- we knew her from the JCC. Rumor has it that two 30 something men actually egged her house. Assuming Steve was involved, he likely no longer recalls that absurd thing.
And that's the tragedy -- far more important than his money and where it goes. We truly collect experiences and turn them into memories. If those get stolen -- well -- that is awful.
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