Month: October 2009

One thing Grandpa’s death has brought forcefully to my attention is the huge legal hassle that comes with dying. You’d hope (or wish) that since dying is such an unpleasant business everyone would have mercy on your survivors and expect nothing from them in this difficult time. Sadly, that is not the case. The death of a loved one can present someone with possibly the most difficult legal and financial situation they will ever face in their life. That is not something looked forward to in the best of circumstances, and can seem incredibly overwhelming in the midst of grief.

So long as we have earthly possessions this cannot be entirely avoided, but there are steps that can be taken to make the trouble after the time of death less difficult. I am sure I am not the first to tell you this, but I will repeat it: Make a will. Have mercy on your survivors, please, and make a will. If you are caring for someone else, check to see if they have a will in place. If not, see if one can be made. I am sure there are many other legal related things that can be done, which a consultation with a lawyer or other expert (or a lot of research on your own part) could make you aware of, and save other people a lot of work down the road. Some things to consider are: Whose name is on any property owned? Whose name is on stocks and bonds? Who are the beneficiaries of any insurance policies?

Grandpa had very little that was in his name alone, and he had a simple and straight-forward will in place, so dealing with the legal and financial issues after his death has been (so far) a relatively straight-forward process. The emphasis is on relatively. We still had to go through probate, and the forms for the process (like all bureaucratic forms) were not clear and easily intelligible. As something of a collective family effort we managed to get the forms filed without the involvement of a lawyer (but with some very nice help from the staff and clerk at the probate court). On the death of a loved one, most people are not up to untangling the intricacies of this process and simply hand the entire matter over to a lawyer. Having been through the process, I can sympathize.

Beyond making sure all the proper legal documents are in place before your death, or the death of a loved one in your care, it is also a very good idea to familiarize yourself with all the steps that will need to be taken in the event of the death. Who will need to be notified? What will need to be done? The list can be distressingly long, and it is easy to forget things when the upsetting event of death actually comes. Social Security, Pension, Insurance Policies . . . who else? What kind of paperwork will you need to file with these various organizations? Where is the birth certificate? Death certificate? Marriage license? Insurance policies? Financial records? If it is your death you are preparing for, make up a list of who will need to be contacted and where the needed paperwork is located and make sure the person taking care of your estate knows where that list is located. If you are preparing for the death of someone in your care, make sure you know who needs to be contacted, and where the information is located. Nobody wants to be left tearing apart the house looking for who-knows-what and who-knows-where after someone has died.

When Grandpa died one of my uncles determined all of the organizations that needed to be contacted, and did so promptly. Grandma had all the paperwork filed away, but we had to do more than enough sorting, trying to find exactly what we needed, determining what policy was the correct one, and what phone number we were supposed to call, and so on. It could have been a lot worse, but it also could have been better.

It can seem morbid to deal with this sort of thing in advance, but it isn’t. It is wise. We will all die, and we don’t know the day, so the wise will prepare in advance. Yes, it is unpleasant but those who must deal with it later will thank you. It is one good thing you can leave behind. So remember, put your house in order.

(This was originally written for the extended family. I shared it, along with some of my other writing, at the memorial we had for Grandpa.)

Grandpa is gone, and it is natural to think about what we have lost in his passing. But there is something I would like to share today, something that I think gives a needed perspective. In this time when many are feeling burdened with grief, it is good to remember what burden Grandpa felt. Grandpa was very aware of his Alzheimer’s, and that sickness was a great burden to him. He did not speak much about it, but today I will share with you some of his earliest words on the matter. It is something for you to think about, and remember.

When I first came to take care of Grandpa I wasn’t sure how much he understood why I was there, or how much he understood about his problem. Then one day shortly after I came, we went on a walk. It was sunny, and warm, a beautiful fall day. Grandpa decided he would take a walk up toward Doug’s. I guess Grandpa was feeling fairly well because we made it to the top of the hill where Grippen Road meets Glenwood before Grandpa decided to turn around.

When we turned around Grandpa seemed to collect himself and then said (without any lead-up), “I do hope and pray that this curse would be taken away.”

I said nothing at first. On other days when Grandpa had complained about his general state I commiserated about the fallen state of man and how our only hope was new bodies. At first I wasn’t certain if he was taking up that general eschatological thought in his out-of-the-blue comment. But I thought not, both because I guessed his recent blow-up at Grandma was on his mind (“Well, Pa,” she had said afterward, “You’re not very clear.” “I’m sorry I’m not clear,” he had said,) but also I felt that the way he had gathered himself before making the statement indicated he wasn’t making an off-hand comment about the condition of the world in general but something much more personal.

He said nothing more after a few steps, so I said, “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s very hard. I think . . .” But then he stopped. Finally, he said, “I don’t know what I think.”

He spoke no more on that subject and a little later when he spoke again it was on a different subject.

The short exchange might not seem to mean much if you were not there to hear the way in which he said it, but I’ve recounted it because it meant a lot to me. I think all of us who have interacted with Grandpa could see quite clearly that he was painfully aware that he couldn’t communicate clearly, and that he made a “fool” out of himself by doing stupid things. But to be aware that you can’t speak clearly at this particular moment, or that you do stupid things, is not the same thing as expressing a larger awareness—both the larger issue of causation, (that is, “I am doing these things because I am succumbing to Alzheimer’s”,) and his spiritual relationship to his problem.

Now we can say, “I hope and pray” in a very flippant manner, but that was not the way in which Grandpa spoke. He spoke quietly, but in an earnest way that told of what was deep within him. I felt it was a rare moment where he opened up to express his recognition of his affliction and his innermost earnest desire and petition regarding his state.

I wasn’t sure he would ever speak so openly about his condition again, but about a week later we had another exchange.

On this occasion Grandpa had gone to bed for the night, but I needed to finish up on some stuff I was doing, so I didn’t go to bed at the same time. I went to check in on him a little later and he was sitting up in bed. I took care of his minor problem and was starting to put him back to bed when he paused and said, “Do you believe that?”

“What,” I said.

“What he said,” Grandpa said, gesturing toward the CD player. “Do you believe it applies to this age?”

I had left the Bible on CD playing for him (he liked to listen to it when he went to bed) and the section being read was from the gospel of Mark where Jesus speaks about faith saying, “If a man has faith he can say to the mountain ‘throw yourself into the sea’ and it will be done.”

“Yes,” I said. “I believe it.”

“Well some people say there are two ages,” he said.

“It says elsewhere in scripture, Grandpa, that all scripture was written for our instruction. So I believe it, yes.”

“But some people say, ‘Well, then, why are you sick?’” Grandpa said.

I answered, “And Jesus disciples asked him ‘why was the man was born blind–because of his sin or his parents sin?’ And Jesus told them ‘Neither, but that the glory of God might be revealed in his life.’ And we can say the same for your situation, Grandpa.”

He gave a little chuckle and said something to the effect, “I don’t understand why.”

And I said, “I know. The situation of Job is a good example. He suffered a very lot and God didn’t give him an explanation. God wouldn’t explain himself to Job—Job had to accept it because God was God. We have to believe by faith that He is a loving and compassionate God.”

“Yeah. It certainly gives you something to ponder,” Grandpa said.

Then, in alluding back to the issue of faith he said, “I sure would like to be healed from this . . . or whatever comes down the pike.”

I said, “He will, Grandpa. He will heal you . . . if not by making this body well, then by taking you out of this body.”

He gave a little chuckle and said something about hitting him over the head with a board. (Earlier when he had expressed distress about waking up so much in the night I suggested he hit himself over the head with a board to go back to sleep. I suspect he was furthering the joke on this occasion by suggesting patricide by the same method.)

I am telling you these stories to give you some idea—as much as any of us can—of what Grandpa’s thoughts were. The sickness was a burden to him, in particular the Christian (or spiritual) aspects. Not only did he wish that his sickness would be taken away, but the implications of his sickness evidently weighed on his mind. If he was not healed in answer to his prayers did that mean he didn’t have enough faith? Or was this all happening to him because of some past wickedness in his life? This last thought was something he expressed more than once.

Today we face the weight of grief, knowing that we will not see Grandpa again in this earthly life. But in facing that grief, we should remember the burden that Grandpa faced. It was his earnest desire and prayer that he would be healed, and his sickness taken away. That was his heart’s cry. And God is faithful, and He has answered that prayer. Grandpa now knows what he longed for, and the burden he carried has been lifted away. His burden is gone. Though we may be sad that he has left, I saw what burden he carried these last three years, and I know what he desired.

For his sake today, I am glad.