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Ch.15 The OCS: Money is the Name of the Game

Safe in Arizona, about 2,500 miles away from the OCS sib, I realize that I'm still under her metaphorical thumb. She is the executrix of mom's will and as noted before, has refused to give me copies of the financial statements on my mom's estate. I figure I'll go to the financial consultant directly and ask her for copies, but she defers to my sib, who, as we all know, had manipulated my cognitively deficient mom into signing everything over to her eldest daughter.

So I'm stuck with dealing with an OCS relative.

Mix relation with OCS and money and you get what I got: a maybe fair accounting and distribution of the estate. The OCS adult doesn't know the word "equal." He or she knows "sequel," and that translates to more, more, more for the OCS. I'm not accusing my OCS sib of cheating me (that might be conceivably construed as slander or libel), but her actions gave the appearance of it. Plus her personal accountant did the math, and the bias was obvious.

Ultimately I learn why my sib was so persnickety and rude most of the time. (By now her grown children have followed suit, their brains being kidnapped by their OCS mother.) In a rare conversation on the telephone the sib tells me what she assumes I already knew. When my father died, about 10 years previously, his will essentially bequeathed his estate to my mother. However, if my mother had predeceased my dad, he would have divvied up the money in the following way: 20 percent to my sib, 20 percent to each of the sib's kids, and 20 percent to me.

 After my dad died, my mother took her will very seriously. I remember her telling me that she was going to a local lawyer to have a new will drawn up. I didn't pay much attention to her announcement--I just thought she was tidying up things. Afterwards she even asked my opinion  (of course mom and everyone in the family assumed I knew the directives of my father's will, which El Estupido, me, had never paid attention to even though I did have a copy of that will. I probably read down as far as my mother being the sole benefactor and said, "Good, it's a normal will, nothing to worry about.")

My mother especially asked what I thought of her bequests to my two nieces and nephew. I thought the amounts were generous, told her so and changed the subject. But actually my mom had pulled a fast one on my sib. Since we never discussed her will beyond the inheritances of my sib's kids, I never knew that Mom had changed the will so that my sister and I would be equal partners and share the inheritance. That epiphany, when it struck, explained many things to me. Any other sib who read my mom's revised will might have been disappointed, possibly very disappointed, but an OCS sib has a sense of entitlement and the news she received disturbed her greatly. Suddenly her power over the monies had been snatched away.

While I'm still digesting this lightning bolt revelation, my sib can't help but fill in the details:

Sib: We even allowed Mom to get a new lawyer.
Me: (I'm flabbergasted  how casually she admits to this subversive thinking. I really want to tell her off--that Mom was fully cognizant--not like she was when you had her sign over her monies to you--and didn't need to be "allowed" to do anything. Aretha, where are you when I need to educate my crafty bitch-sib about R-E-S-P-E-C-T?I'm only thinking this stuff, not actually saying it.)
Me:Do you want a thank you for letting her exert her free will?
Sib: I don't know what you did to get her to change the will...

The sib never  deviates from her position, and I insists I knew about the revised will.

In the same conversation, the sib asks about mom's diamond-encrusted wedding band. She says it was promised to her son's wife.

Me: You should have given him mom's engagement ring.
Sib: Don't be obtuse. You know it disappeared in the hospital.
Me: I know you said it disappeared in the hospital and you filed an insurance claim for its value, which I recall was upwards of $10,000.
Sib: That's true, but let's get back to the wedding band.
Me: I'm keeping it; in fact, I've been wearing it since the funeral.
Sib: Why are you doing this to me?
Me: Because I can. (I couldn't resist giving it back to her what she had said to me previously.)

Next chapter: The estrangement, the apology and the short-lived reconciliation.

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