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When my grandfather retired from being a schoolteacher, he traveled. He read books, played the piano, read voraciously, gardened enthusiastically. He even tried baking bread (my grandmother resented that one – it was, after all, HER kitchen). Whenever he took a taxi, he’d strike up a conversation with the driver; at restaurants, he’d find a way to connect with or entertain the wait staff. He could make conversation with anyone and had a zest for life and knowledge that meant he never tired of exploring, learning and experiencing new things, places and people.

With the passing of the years, I’ve come to realize this fearless exploration of our world and all things in it may quite possibly be quintessentially English – the world is there for the taking, as it were. Particularly for someone of my grandfather’s generation, being an Englishman was certainly a wonderful fate.

Be that as it may, I don’t mean to minimize my grandfather’s individual strength of character – he was just so very English, I can’t really write about him without mentioning it. I think he would want me to.

Once his ability to drive was gone, my grandfather’s shoulders sagged in a way I had never seen. He got very quiet and soft-spoken, which was, frankly, really odd for the rest of us since we were used to Grandpa being the self-proclaimed decider and leader of the pack. It was as if he didn’t feel like a man anymore.

One of my grandfather’s great joys was driving. Driving was just about the best thing there was – it was motion, innovation, speed, manliness, freedom and control over one’s environment to a thrilling degree all rolled into one glorious activity. And so when my grandfather’s eyesight deteriorated to the point where he couldn’t drive anymore, it was honestly tragic.

I know by today’s standards, this sense of gender will (and should) seem extremely narrow and simplistic – but there it was: my grandfather’s sense of self was being eroded by time and age. Who was he if not a man in a car, exploring the world and roads?

I think of my grandfather quite often when meeting with clients who live in assisted living facilities or those who are home-bound. While we often discuss their present circumstances, ways to improve things for them or plans for their family when they’re gone, we always talk about bygone days and how they used to live. These clients in particular are eager to share who they are, because when they do that, they are that person again, if only for the duration of the conversation, the sharing of the memory. Plus, it feels good to pass something on – some illustrative story of life, or a tidbit of advice. That way, having lived this long and having so many days to look back on has some advantage, some wisdom to pass on to a younger member of the species. You know they probably won’t heed it, but humans have always taken comfort in sharing information (hello internet!), and conversation is one of the oldest vehicles of knowledge there is.

The upside of my grandfather becoming home-bound was in fact more conversations with him. As a female grandchild, I hadn’t been inducted into obsessing over cars and engines (although I do like cars, for the record); in fact, my grandfather and I usually locked horns on how authoritarian he got to be and what…honestly, I can’t remember, but little power struggles here and there as I grew up. In hindsight, I think he started to realize we were rather alike. And so once he found himself “stuck” in the living room with all the females, he and I actually talked.

We talked about religion – people’s need for it and what we thought about it (mostly rubbish, but what can you do); we talked about other cultures and how fascinating the human race was in its strange similarities and differences. It was really lovely.

When my grandfather got near to the end of his life, he regressed in a wonderful sort of way and would often repeat the same stories of his time in Egypt during “the War” (Second World), as well as sing silly little songs from his childhood – the one about the tipsy mouse falling into a jug of ale comes to mind. We got used to reheating his teacup multiple times because he’d forgotten it was there and then wondered why he’d been served tepid tea. Luckily, he did all of this rather sweetly and in a docile way, so we didn’t mind too much. It was quite nice I think for all of us to see the lion-like patriarch diminished to such a gentle soul – who, of course, had been there all along.

I do miss him. He was a very good man by his generation’s standards (and others) and passed on a keen curiosity in others as well as a love of cars and his beloved home country, Yorkshire. I hope to preserve and pass on his strength of character and perseverance, and that I too become a gentle lion in my old age.

Maya Missaghi practices elder law as well as estate planning and probate with Missaghi Law, PLLC. She really enjoys visiting her clients and hearing their memories and stories; she thinks more people should listen to them, even if they repeat themselves (who doesn’t?). She can be reached at maya@mmlawservices.com or 952-237-9602.

In Memoriam of Lawrence Bailey

WUsually when probate comes up in conversation (yes, I do estate planning, it does come up in conversation), everyone is interested in ways to avoid it. That does make sense – probate proceedings take time and cost money, and they happen at a difficult time.

Grief and losing someone deserve their own post, but I thought I would write a little on probate just to deconstruct it a bit.

Having to go through probate is not the end of the world. It is certainly a headache. It entails forms, court time and yes, you should have an attorney (mostly because we already have the forms and know where to park for Court). But it is doable.

So what is it? Probate can be defined in the following ways:

1. The proving of a will
2. The distribution of a decedent’s estate and reconciling of any debts

The proving of a will

First, there needs to be a will in order for this definition to work, obviously. A will is a document that a person uses to memorialize who they want to have as the representative of their property and interests when they die (this person is called the executor or more commonly now the Personal Representative); who they want to get what upon their passing and how they want their estate to get paid (this can get more complicated when certain tax concerns are involved or if there is a mix of assets and therefore various ways money can get distributed).

Proving a will simply means the Personal Representative named in that will goes in front of a Probate Court judge and swears that they will follow the instructions set out by the person who just died and do so ethically and correctly. This is also an opportunity for any other family members to come forward and “contest” or argue against the will. That can get pretty exciting.

Distribution of a decedent’s estate

But what if there is no will?

The State has an interest in making sure a person’s assets get cashed out, liquidated and/or distributed because the State a) is waiting for tax payments and b) has a policy of honoring family ties and making sure surviving members are provided for (a more comforting motivation).

Because of this interest, there are intestate succession statutes which outline what to do if there is no will. Intestacy simply means “without a testament” which is basically any written evidence of your wishes (like a will would be). Because the State doesn’t want everyone to just fight over money or the bossiest member of the family to just take over everything (unless, of course, that’s what the decedent wanted and said so), intestate probate proceedings were created and follow the directions laid out in the statutes to try and resolve things equitably. The surviving spouse is provided for, as are the children; any other more distant descendants can also be provided for if the estate is large enough or if there are no surviving immediate family members.

As you can imagine, this can get pretty ugly. People start to feel like the government is telling them what to do (true) and all kinds of jealousies and resentments tend to bubble up and even come out in Court (sad). It’s not that having a will to work with necessarily eliminates this monkey business, but it does seem to limit it since it’s the decedent and not the State telling us what to do with the money.

Anyway, with or without a will, Probate is about making sure all debts, expenses and taxes get paid and that the remaining assets get to the right people. This usually takes a few scheduled court dates – one to open the Probate case, appoint a Personal Representative, allow an opportunity for any descendants to speak up and be heard, etc.; one to show everything has been figured out and we know how it’s all to be distributed. How it all gets scheduled will depend on how busy the Probate Court is, how well you or your attorney follow through on filing forms and how complicated the estate distribution is.

But generally, Probate takes months if not a year. This isn’t just due to delays – it is good not to rush the process because it allows for things to come out of the woodwork, if you will. Probate hearing dates are published so as to notify any and everyone who may be interested in this individual’s passing. Obituaries are not only a meaningful way to embody a person’s memory, they also serve as public notice of their passing. The point of all this publishing is to have made our best effort to broadcast that this person’s assets need to pass to someone else (I’m sorry to put it in such mercenary terms).

Honestly, I feel like I’m opening a can of worms here – this article was meant to and will hopefully serve as a very broad overview of what Probate is – it can actually be a lot like opening a can of worms. Which makes probate lawyering a bit like gardening. But I digress.

It is a little overwhelming to begin with, but Probate can be done. Come see me if you’d like to discuss how it might play out in your family. It’ll be fun!

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Maya Missaghi practices estate planning and probate with Missaghi Law, PLLC, as well as elder law. She has gotten over her fear of going to Court and now happily meets her clients there when absolutely necessary. She even knows where to park. She will gladly help make any Court visits less terrifying, fill out the appropriate forms and make scheduling phone calls (multitasking). She can be reached at maya@mmlawservices.com or 952-237-9602.

We went to a restaurant with my parents over the winter holidays. Not a particularly busy day, no huge crowds or waiting time, just a nice evening to go out for an early family dinner with the kids. And our kids were behaving fairly civilized to boot. Nothing to make us an onerous table by any means.

I mention all this because despite our seemingly bland, inoffensive presentation, I noticed something different about the service we received. It wasn’t bad or slow. Our waiter was both polite and helpful, even friendly.

The difference was he talked mostly to me and my husband. Not to my parents.

I wouldn’t expect or even want him to talk to my kids (actually, it kind of annoys me when waiters try to somehow “empower” my kids into ordering for themselves. I’ll teach them to do that, thank you very much.). But having a waiter look to me as the decision maker when my parents are there is a newer experience.

Now, part of me thinks, well, that’s the passage of time; that’s the natural order of things, isn’t it? Yes, it is to a large extent. But then a friend of mine told me what her restaurant experience is like these days and the attention shift took on a darker hue.

My friend is a single woman in her sixties. She occasionally goes out to eat by herself but less and less. This is because of late she gets ignored at restaurants and treated as a huge inconvenience instead of a paying customer.

When she and I go out to restaurants, even I notice that younger patrons waiting to be seated get an almost relieved smile from the host who noticeably relaxes upon spotting their youthful glow and trendy phone cases. It’s almost as if the host was worried the place was starting to go downhill but if these young people are coming to eat here, we must be okay. For now….

Look, I get trends; I understand marketing to certain demographics. But restaurants – places to eat with other people around – are a mainstay of civilized living, especially urban living. You may live in a small space, but that’s okay because you have places to go that are bigger, airier and will break you out of your isolation without having to move in with anybody.

But what if you started to feel unwanted out in public? Imagine venturing out of your shell only to feel like everyone is really just waiting for you to climb back in. This is what going to cafes and restaurants starts to feel like for many older citizens.

Older members of the population feeling shunned or unwanted is obviously not a new phenomenon. Neither is the glorification of youth (why?? Youth is dumb. So what if it has smoother skin??). It’s just that the problem is coming home to roost, if you will, with more of the people I know and love.

It’s fascinating to watch my older friends worry about becoming “old people”. I don’t pretend to understand it fully, but I do mention that if it’s any consolation, my five and nine-year old make me feel ancient many a day. But I am only thirty-six. I am under no illusion that that somehow qualifies me as aged.

But I look forward to being so. I really do. I have great respect for older people – older women in particular -because, well, they’re tough. Tough in ways I truly admire – saying no, knowing their limits, their strengths and weaknesses and also having persevered this long in life, damn it. That’s no small feat, and I really think our society needs to start appreciating that achievement to a greater extent.

The next time you happen to see an older patron, make sure they get their turn. If they’re taciturn or grumpy, smile and nod. And if you’re thinking “Wait, am I in that category now??”, know that some of us are and always will be looking to you for advice and examples of how to go on living and enjoying life.

I don’t care what the next trend of electronics or fashion is, I want to learn how to develop character and continue tolerating the rest of society.

Can I come sit with you? Let’s get dessert.

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Maya Missaghi is an estate planning and elder law attorney with Missaghi Law, PLLC. She genuinely enjoys slowing down, hearing stories and thinking long term. She loves helping her clients plan for the future, find a new home in their older years and make sure they know who’s getting the artwork. You can reach her at maya@mmlawservices.com or 952-237-9602.