Nothing’s ever easy is it?
I called the social worker to see if she had a date for the hearing in probate court to place him somewhere and appoint a conservator. No, the court has not gotten back to them yet. But, oh, they didn’t appoint his sister as conservator. They thought she had too much on her plate. I said, “Yes, she does have a lot. That’s why I am coming up there to help her.” Well, too late, they are asking for an atty to be appointed.
This social worker is now behaving like a clerical worker, simply trying to push the paperwork through. When I voiced my concerns, she told me there’s no conservator now, so I can do what I want with his stuff. WTF. As if there are no legal ramifications to that. As if I, the ex-wife, can just go in his home and go through his stuff, and sell his cars. REALLY? Then she asked if I couldn’t maybe talk to my ex to find out what he wanted done.
WHAT THE FUCK? I mean, really, WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCK?
I reminded her that he now thinks I’m dead, he might not be receptive to hearing from me. And what does he want done with his stuff? NOTHING. He wants to keep it all, or he’d have sold it by now so he could live in a decent place. In fact it is his love of his things, and his desire to keep them all, that has landed him in the land of FIXED DELUSIONS.
For Pete’s sake. Yes, let’s ask the crazy man, who is being committed to a facility for people who have lost their mind, what he wants me to do with his stuff. I am still picking my jaw up off the floor at that suggestion.
I was pretty angry that they decided not to appoint my sister-in-law as conservator without discussing it. I knew I could work with my sister-in-law. An atty? Who knows? The issue is compounded by the landlord wanting his stuff out of there. And no court date yet. It is silly for me to go if I cannot do anything to aid the process, and I can’t until there is a conservator appointed. She said, because they hadn’t heard from his sister, they chose the atty. I said, “If you’d have told me she needed to contact you, I’d have told her to call you.” For that matter, shouldn’t they have left a more detailed message with her than, “Please give us a call.”? Like maybe, we’re placing him in a home because he clearly can’t take care of himself, and we need to talk to you as the only nearby family member about this situation and find out what you’d like to have done about it?”
Poor communication fucks up so many things.
I talked to my atty. She called the atty they have requested as conservator. Apparently, the conservator-appointee is thrilled that I would go up there and help. I have a call into her to figure out when I should come. So, I guess it may work out anyway, and particularly for my sister-in-law.
Anyway, I think my atty will proceed with liens on the cars now. I will go to CT with Dan next week, providing I get the ok from this atty.
Just a lot of unnecessary agita on top of the already existing load of it.
Meanwhile, his landlord asked me for his birthdate and social security number for some form which says he’s not active military, a form associated with the eviction proceeding. WTF? (again.) Yeah, like I’m gonna give out his social security number. Geezus. What an idiot, to even ask me.
Chaos. That’s what always follows my ex wherever he goes, whatever his mental state. It is a natural tool for those who desire power and control above all else. I’ve dealt with his chaos for decades.
I hope this is the last time I will have to disentangle his web of bullshit.
I’m blessed anyway, with a wonderful life in every way. This is a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. The song be low is one of my old favorites from Jethro Tull. Enjoy.
Love and light.