logo-image

Cue The Fireworks

Lisa Thomas • August 3, 2022

When I was in elementary school, and then high school, and then college, I was never able to use the dictionary or the encyclopedia as reference books.  I would always get sidetracked by a picture or an article that looked interesting . . . and three hours later I’d still be working my way toward my intended destination with absolutely no ETA.

Technology has only made this worse.  Especially when I find an intriguing article and then, at the bottom of that article, are links to what appear to be other intriguing articles.  This is particularly true with those sites that are offering advice (or condemnation) by the mentors or the masses.  If it isn’t Dear Prudie or Dear Abby, it’s Slate or Am I the *******, all of which occasionally offer up some of the most absurd situations you could possibly imagine. For example . . .

A gentleman wrote in seeking validation for a decision he had made—a decision that built an insurmountable wall between him and his daughter.  It seems his first wife—the mother of the aforementioned daughter—had died, leaving him a sizeable inheritance that included a lovely beach house which had belonged to her family and what seemed to be a ton of cash.  A few years later he found a young lady in her twenties (he is in his forties) and they eventually married, as his family looked on suspiciously.

Fast forward a year.  One whole year.  And he decided to leave everything to his new wife.  Everything.  The beach house . . . the cash . . . everything will be hers at his death, leaving nothing for the daughter or the grandson he and his deceased wife shared.  And, he didn’t see a reason to give this information to his now disinherited child—until she mentioned the beach house and how many wonderful childhood memories were made there and how much she looked forward to her grandchildren doing the same someday . . . at which point she asked him outright if the beach house would still be hers at his death.

You can’t tell me somebody didn’t put a bug in her ear.

To his credit, her father replied honestly.  Everything is going to wife number two with whom he will probably also have children given her age.  He didn’t see a problem with that, either because he didn’t want to or because he was completely oblivious to the devastating consequences of his actions.

Cue the fireworks.

Granted, they didn’t explode immediately, mainly because his child was too shocked to react or respond.  But it didn’t take long for her to make her feelings known.  Although she was polite—in the beginning—she certainly didn’t mince words and by the time the conversation ended he knew exactly how she felt, which was angry and betrayed.  And he still didn’t reconsider his decision.  He did, however, post his predicament on one of those websites that asks a total stranger for advice . . . except in his case he was seeking approval for the course of action he had chosen.

He didn’t get it.

The columnist started by assuring this gentleman he was well within his rights to leave his worldly possessions to whomever he chose.  And then he let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he was a terrible person for taking what his wife—the mother of his daughter—had left to him, trusting that their child would eventually receive that inheritance, and leave it to a woman he’d been married to for a year.  It was fine, even expected, that he should provide for her in some manner, but to leave her everything that his first wife had brought into their marriage was a travesty and extremely disrespectful of the relationship they’d had.

Believe it or not, this situation arises more often than you might think among families who are dealing with loss.  I’ve always said Death and alcohol bring out the best or the worst in people, depending upon who they really are, and I should probably add money to that list.  And who gets to hear the stories?  The funeral director in the arrangement conference.  And the secretaries in the office.  And anyone else who will make eye contact and halfway listen. If someone didn’t go ransack the house before Death arrived, then they went right before the arrangement conference (or even during, when they’re fairly certain everyone else is otherwise occupied), or they change the locks so they have complete control over who else enters the property.  And it isn’t much better when they learn they’ve been left out of the will in favor of a spouse that isn’t also their parent. Families that might otherwise have enjoyed each other’s company at Christmas are now mortal enemies because somebody died and somebody else got greedy.

If anyone is expecting this to wrap up with some handy dandy tips on how to navigate financial mess at death, I highly recommend not holding your breath.  All I can say is please consider the children left behind when a newly acquired spouse enters the picture, and please don’t shove your family aside over money and material possessions.  In the overall scheme of things, what you may gain is never worth the cost.

 

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

By Lisa Thomas February 20, 2025
Although every arrangement conference is different, any that involve planning some type of service share a few things in common, such as deciding who will speak, and when and where the service will be held. And at some point in all this planning, the funeral director will ask “Have you thought about music?”
By Lisa Thomas February 13, 2025
It was the spring of 1991 when I was first required to walk through the doors of Henderson Office Supply on Main Street in Henderson, Tennessee. The business was owned by the Casey family—the same Casey family who owned Casey Funeral Home—the same Casey family from whom we had just purchased both.
By Lisa Thomas February 6, 2025
It was December 14, 1799, and George Washington, first president of the United States, lay on his deathbed, the result of male obstinance, a sudden change in the weather, a desire to be prompt which led to dinner in soggy clothes, and medical practices of the day that were useless in the face of whatever illness was attacking his body. Actually, just useless in general.
By Lisa Thomas January 30, 2025
Pia Farrenkopf was a loner, a smart, driven woman of German descent who would be gone for weeks at a time, if not for work, then for the sheer pleasure of exploring the world. Her family grew to expect unanswered phone calls and random postcards from faraway places.
By Lisa Thomas January 23, 2025
Whenever a death occurs there’s always a cleaning out that follows. It may be a house or apartment, a hospital or nursing home room—maybe even just a closet and a drawer—but somewhere the items that represent that person’s life are tucked safely away, waiting for the day when they will pass to the next generation . . . or Goodwill, whichever is deemed appropriate.
By Lisa Thomas January 15, 2025
I find myself sitting in Panera, eating an Apple Chicken Salad and reading “The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle”, a Christmas present from my daughter and her family. Only this Panera is located in Vanderbilt Medical Center. Soon I will return to the darkness of Room 7 in the ICU and wait.
By Lisa Thomas January 9, 2025
We were just wrapping up a celebratory family meal (please don’t ask which one; I haven’t the foggiest notion, given the time of year and the prevalence of celebratory meals), when my 15-year-old grandson Wilson stretched his lanky frame in the manner that indicates a satisfaction with the food and a fullness from overindulging, and asked “Mona, (that’s what all the grandchildren call me . . . because my first name is Lisa . . . so, Mona Lisa . . .) “when do I get a copy of the Thomas Cookbook?”
By Lisa Thomas December 27, 2024
As I sit writing this, it is Christmas night—that time when the world grows still and quiet as the celebrations of the day fade into memories.
By Lisa Thomas December 18, 2024
‘Tis the season to be jolly . . . unless it isn’t. Unless it isn’t because Grief has recently come to call and seems quite content to stay, at least for the foreseeable future.
By Lisa Thomas December 12, 2024
I made a pretty big mistake this year. Actually, truth be known, I made a lot of mistakes this year. But this particular one was a doozie.
More Posts
Share by: