Chapter 8 - Evelyn makes me prove I am competent
I decided to rewrite my estate plan in the hospital.
Evelyn refused.
“Not today.”
“I’m competent.”
“Maybe.”
“Excuse me?”
“You had a heart attack six days ago. You’re angry. Sedating medication was recently administered. Your sons already raised capacity issues.”
“I know what day it is.”
“That is not enough.”
“You work for me.”
“Yes. Which is why I am saying no.”
I hated her.
For twelve minutes.
Then agreed.
She arranged an independent geriatric psychiatrist.
Neuropsychological screening.
My cardiologist confirmed medications.
A second attorney represented me for estate-plan changes so Evelyn would not be accused of engineering everything alone.
Annoying.
Correct.
The evaluator asked:
“Do you know approximate value of your estate?”
“Between five hundred eighty and six hundred forty million depending on Whitmore valuation.”
“What debt do you have?”
I explained.
“What happened outside the tower?”
I explained.
“Why do you want to change your estate?”
“Because my sons’ behavior changed my judgment of whether they should receive control.”
“Do you want to punish them?”
“Yes.”
He looked up.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
I continued:
“That is part of my emotion. It is not the only reason for the structure I am considering.”
Better.
“What is the other reason?”
“I no longer believe either son should inherit my voting control simply because he is my son.”
“Why Thomas Reed?”
“I haven’t decided what Thomas gets.”
Good.
That was true.
At that point, I had only decided what Daniel and Marcus should no longer get automatically.
The evaluator found me competent.
Angry.
Grieving.
Medically recovering.
May you like
Competent.
Good enough.
