And by 'exciting' I mean I don't know what I am doing but it is kind of like a Literal and Figurative Treasure Hunt. And we feel really creeped out going through their stuff. Every so often I have this feeling I am gonna get in trouble.
So Monica and I went to see our friendly neighborhood estate attorney the other day. He handled the trust my dad set up. "Trust" makes it sound as if they had a lot of money. What it really means is that he didn't want my sister and I to fight over who gets to keep the growth he picked off his own head and kept in a jar in the cupboard. (I really wish that were a joke)
Actually I guess anyone can set up a trust and all it does is bypass the probate court. (please insert 'The More You Know Theme Song')
So he suggested that we go through the house very very thoroughly because people of his generation stashed cash in weird places.
In my generation this means we put our credit cards in the freezer. In my kids' generation it means their parents put their credit cards in the freezer and, since they are 30 years old and still living at home pursuing their Dreams-- they can't reach the pint of Ben & Jerry's they want to eat in their basement 'apartment' so they are enraged and yelling about their Rights! (Note: Okay this is a hypothetical because my son and daughter in law have their own freezer in their own house and my daughter... she is not 30 years old)
So Saturday we gathered to look for
stashes of cash important papers. Of course, this is MY definition of important papers because my fathers definition included receipts for stuff that is older than I am, warranties & manuals for every thing he ever bought, a diagram of something electrical but we have no idea what it was, commodations from work (Dear US Government-- seriously? Either he was the most amazing employee ever or you just hand those out like candy. Where I work, a Good Job Commendation means my office key still works), papers from the time he got a Sears credit card in 1976, original birth certificates and marriage certificates and death certificates from virtually every family member and the list goes on and on. We found a file box full of the documentation of his fight with "The Man" and by that I mean the poor guy who wanted to build on that huge empty acreage at the southwest corner of 20th West and Ave I because hell hath no fury like an 50 year old Grumpy Old Fart who doesn't want a bunch of apartments put up in HIS neighborhood. I found his Antelope Valley Community College transcripts as well as his diplomas. Not as high a GPA as mine, thank you. By the way he never believed I had at least gotten my AA degree there But I Most Certainly Did!! (Getting your AA from AV College is a tradition in our family. Brandon even got one there before being the first (so far cuz his cousins are on their way too) one to get his BS)
We also looked through my mom's jewelry box where we found a lot of cool vintage looking clip on earrings and brooches and lockets. And a few..... gulp........... gold fillings. O.M.G. So gross. I don't even want to know where those came from.
We found my maternal grandfathers swimming medals (those will be coming your way soon David). We found binoculars. (?) And the flash bulbs from old cameras (remember those?)
What we did not find the crown jewels. Or One Million Dollars in cash and prizes. Chicken Boullion but no Gold.
I have not yet found the letter that lovingly says good bye you were a wonderful child sorry I forgot to tell you. Or an admission that I was part of the Alien Child Exchange Program but I know that I was. But I am not giving up. There might be something somewhere.