Friday, June 20, 2008

It happens every time.

I handled a lot of business type stuff today. I'm still working on putting things into my name. This time it was stock certificates. They sent me a change of ownership package with a bunch of forms to fill out. One of them required a Medallion Guarantee stamp. A notary has to have a special license for that and most of them don't. They told me I could get one at my bank. Well, Altura doesn't do that anymore. They gave me a list of notaries but when I called them half of them didn't even know what it was.

Today I went to Kinko's to fax Paige's and my health insurance applications. Wells Fargo is right nearby. I do have a Wells Fargo account but I hate going in there. After Jim died and I needed LOTS of help with accounts and other stuff, they wouldn't help me because their legal department said I needed to go through probate first. Not true, at least not for the stuff I needed them to do. This is freakin' California and I'm the wife. I had all the documents I needed to prove we were married and that he was dead but they still wouldn't help me. Every time I walked into that place it was like getting beaten up. So, I really didn't want to go there today.

I walked in and was greeted by the same clueless guy I dealt with before. I could feel my throat tightening up. I told him I needed the Medallion Guarantee stamp and he said yes ma'am, right away, ma'am, come over here and have a seat. I couldn't believe it. I was finally getting something I needed from Wells Fargo. My throat tightened even more. I gave them all the documents and sat there while they faxed everything to their legal department. The whole thing took about half an hour and the whole time I had to keep grabbing hold of myself to keep calm. When the notary finally came back with the completed papers I lost it. The tears started to flow. Damn, I hate that.

But it's done. Another piece handled. I came home and called Fidelity to get some more stock items taken care of. This time they put me in touch with an office in Palm Desert. They explained that I do have to go through a probate process because Jim didn't name me as beneficiary. They gave me a long list of stuff I have to do. At least they were helpful. And after I hung up I got weepy again. Part of it is being freshly reminded of all the grief, but a big part of it is just plain not knowing how all this stuff is supposed to work and feeling stupid and ignorant about it all. It makes me want to cash it all in and stuff it into a mattress. A mattress I can understand. Ain't no mystery about a mattress.

Once I get the paperwork done I'll consolidate everything into one account. It would be good to find out exactly how much money I have. Right now everything is too spread out and I'm tired of dealing with particles.

Bleah. I'm drained. Tonight I'm going to Ken's to play music. I'm going to go early and swim a little. It's freakin' hot! This morning when I was sitting on my front porch waiting for the trash truck (really, I was out there just enjoying the morning), I ripped out the cheesy railing that has offended me ever since I moved to this place. I was going to get some tools and carefully take it out but when I was sitting there I decided what the hell and started rocking it back and forth. It pretty much snapped right off. It felt gooooood.

When we moved I brought over these concrete yard statues of a donkey and a guy in a sombrero taking a siesta. They're both sporting really bad paint jobs. I'm going to repaint them all cute 'n' stuff. This morning I brought in the siesta guy. I've got my art area pretty much ready to use. It feels good to finally be at a place where I can do some painting. Boy, do I need it!

8 comments:

vivage said...

At this point I don't think it's Jim grief, it's the fucking grief of all the paperwork and shit you have to do to get the financials put to bed.

It's so freaking maddening. I was still bursting into tears 5 years after my moms death trying to get thru the court system and probate.

The O family is gonna end up going thru it some time (they have a will but no trust for the MIL), it won't be as bad as mine was but someone will be tearing their hair out when the time comes.

Dealing with the financials is a special kind of hell. They out to have grief counseling courses for that kind of shit.

vivage said...

that should read: They ought to have grief counseling...not they out to. duh.

Anonymous said...

Well, I have had almost a bottle of wine, and I just found your Wells Fargo story very funny. I'm sorry. That poor guy! He's mean to you, you cry; he's nice to you, you cry! WHADDAYA WANT??

I'm sorry, it's Friday, I'm a leedle toasted. One thing I don't need is GRIEF COUNSELING. Kay?

-dean

Nancy said...

I feel your pain, Doni. I went through similar Hell for a couple of years after my mom died, and left me as executor. I am the absolute worst person ever to take care of all that. It was absolutely the hardest job I have ever had in my life. I remember all the phone calls, all the bank visits, notary visits, insurance dealings, the mailing of "Official" death certificates, etc. It was almost worse than the grief of losing her - although that was always a part of every crappy interaction. Mostly people were cooperative, but I felt like an idiot. I remember I kept a red spiral notebook and wrote everything down that transpired with the date so that I could try to comprehend it all. Only in my case, we all saw it coming, so she tried her best to prepare everything for me. You never saw it coming.
Nancy

Donita Curioso said...

Thanks, you guys. You are all completely awesome. Except for Dean. Jeez, sober up, would ja?

Actually, right now I'm also a leetle toasted. I had a good night at Ken and Sherri's.

I've kind of gotten used to everyone asking for that good ol' death certificate. Thanks to Dean for alerting me to that necessity. She went through this same shit when her mom died. She told me to get a zillion copies because everybody wants one.

Nancy- I was thinking I need to have a notebook that I can keep next to the computer to keep all my notes in. Yes, most of the people I've dealt with have been knowledgeable and helpful but it still churns me up when I have to deal with the financials. Knowing that you had the same emotions when you dealt with this stuff helps me feel less alone. Thank you.

Virginia- You too. So, I guess this kind of thing is pretty common. At Fidelity they're having me deal with their Inheritors Services Group. I'll bet they buy Kleenex by the truckload. Their office just deals with widows and widowers. That must really be something. What a specialty!

Anonymous said...

Sober Saturday.

Keeping your money in a mattress right now would probably get you a higher return than banking it.

I'm surprised at how much trouble you're having with stuff like this because the paperwork wasn't in order before Jim died. Ann Landers was right, wasn't she? Even if you're a 25-year-old marathon runner, get your ducks in line.

Having your art space arranged should make everything look better. Better than grief counseling!

P.S. I had a bank meltdown when my mom died, but before I started crying at the escrow desk, I went a little hysterical first. Freaked KC out, and the bank guy was never the same toward me.

-dean

Donita Curioso said...

(Hee, hee! You can stop now.)

Wow, you had a bank meltdown? Cool! I think some of these people who are supposed to be helping you, but aren't, deserve a meltdown. They're the ones with the expertise and the information you need. They should know how to deal with this stuff and be sensitive about it.

When I finally get everything in order I'm going to make sure Lindsay and Paige are named beneficiaries. Their names are going to be all over everything in big, bold letters.

Anonymous said...

Well, but the bank guy was being helpful. I think he said something like, "I'm so sorry about your mother." I mean, it was nothing. But we'd been at her bedside for three weeks and you know how you're more likely to lose it in an inappropriate place... like feeling the urge to yell "SHIT" in church? KC and I laughed about it when we got to the car. I just snapped slightly in the quiet bank lobby.

-dean