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Mother Always Loved You Best
This entry was posted on 5/31/2008 10:22 AM and is filed under Generally Speaking.
The name announced over my office intercom was vaguely familiar. As I lifted the phone, she said: You may not remember me. It’s been seven years since my mother and my sister worked with you. My sister is dying and refuses to see me. Can you help? My failed mediations remain a more vivid memory than my successes, and as soon as she offered this background, I remembered her well. I’d been consulted by a friend of a friend who asked if I could mediate a problem that was tearing her family apart. At the age of eighty-five she’d disclosed to her daughters her plan to leave her sizable estate to them in equal shares. The older daughter was incensed. Living on the west coast, divorced and without children, she had achieved considerable success in the film industry and was financially secure. Although always busy, she maintained close contact with her mother. Her sister, a gifted student in high school and college, married young. She and her husband raised five children on a small subsistence farm, home schooling and neither pursuing professional careers. The mother lived nearby so witnessed the unmet needs of her younger daughter’s family and regularly helped out financially, eventually paying the college expenses of her grandchildren. A substantial sum, never tallied, had been contributed over many years. The older sister had always accepted her sibling’s life choices without rancor, but believed, from long ago comments her mother had made, that in the end a balance would be struck. She expected to receive a larger share of the estate. Now her memory was being questioned. Family discussions became frequent and bitter. The mother wavered. Her every effort to soothe or develop compromise solutions only evoked more anger from one daughter or the other. She was distraught. I agreed to try to help, and the three women came to my office. The chill between the sisters, both in their early sixties, was immediately evident. Grim faced, they looked past each other even when in the same room. Two lengthy mediation sessions were held, but to no avail. Despite developing a number of options that could to some extent address the unequal gifting, the sisters remained positional, both insisting they were standing on principle. The older demanded a year-to-year accounting of the contributions to the younger and her family. She refused, and was adamant there be no change from the plan for equal shares. Each addressed their mother’s sorrow and sadness with loving gestures, but no deference. I raise a cynical eyebrow when someone says: it’s not about the money, but the principle involved. But in these circumstances, it really didn’t seem to be about the money. It seemed to be about love, about allowing old childhood jealousies and rivalries for affection and approval to sweep in and supplant mature behavior, even at the expense of the well being of a loved elderly parent. Barring mental incompetence or significant evidence of undue influence, neither suggested here, aren’t parents entitled to autonomy and respect for whatever decisions they make about how they choose to use assets during their lifetime, and the disposition of their estate? The story I tell here does not have a happy ending. I learned that the mother died without changing her plan. Over the years that followed neither daughter spoke to the other. Then came news of the younger sister’s fatal illness. I try to stand in the shoes of each daughter and wonder why they found it impossible to look beyond the immediate conflict, and make choices less destructive of the family. Is this simply not possible when overwhelmed by the belief that: mother always loved you best? The older daughter called again before returning home. The reconciliation sought had been refused. I never asked whether the fight was worth the misery, but I know the answer.
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