Friday, October 2, 2015

In which Primo cleans up Doris' computer and we talk about the will

Primo: I had my mom's MacBook with me today at the hospital, cleaning it up. My dad will want to use it.

Me: Good idea.

Primo: She had a couple hundred documents on her desktop.

Me: What?!

(Who just throws documents on a desktop? You set up a file structure in a logical order so you can put things where they belong. My files below. Most of them have subfiles because that is how you put information in order so you can find it!


  • A Femme d'Un Certain Age (from when I was helping Tish with her FB page)
  • Business (subfolders for receipts, correspondence with home repair, medical, insurance, stuff from my marriage)
  • Primo's run for assembly/Congress
  • Christmas letters
  • House
  • Newspaper (from when I wrote for the local paper)
  • Neighborhood (block list, block party stuff)
  • Novel
  • Recipes
  • Rice alumni
  • Taxes
  • Work, my resumes, my friends' resumes, job-hunting advice, including a lot of great stuff from Ask A Manager)


(Documents on a desktop is a messy way to do things.)

Primo: I had to read a lot of them. She had one to her doctor about how much pain she was in.

Me: Oh I'm sorry sweetie. That had to have been very hard to read. Your poor mom.

Primo: She was in pain and so unhappy.

Me: I wish she had not been so miserable. I wish she could have had some happy years.

Primo: And another one with notes about an argument she was having with my dad.

Me: Like doing research on an argument about politics?

Primo: No. He had done something that really upset her and she was writing about it.

(Poor Doris. She really needed a blog.)

Primo: They say they had something so special, but it seemed like they couldn't stand each other.

Me: Well your dad sure wasn't very nice to her.

Primo: No.

Me: Leigh used to work with abusive men, counseling them. When I told her that your mom had been skinny with a bad complexion in high school but then got gorgeous and didn't know it, she diagnosed it right away.

Primo: What?

Me: Low self esteem in a woman plus a bullying man leads to abuse.

Primo: She was stuck with him.

Me: Well, financially.

Primo: She was just so tired after my sister.

Me: Your mom did not have it easy.

Primo: I can be really annoying -

Me: Yes.

Primo: And sometimes - about once a year - I can be a jerk.

Me: A cheese-throwing jerk.

Primo: But I have never been abusive, have I?

Me: No!

Primo: I mean, I am not a bully, am I?

Me: NO! And if you tried, I would stand up to you. No sweetie, you are not like your father.

Primo: When I got to college, I was like my dad. I thought I had to be right and tell people when they were wrong. But there were people I wanted to be friends with who did not want to be around me. I realized I was being like my dad and that I had to change if I wanted friends.

Me: You are NOT like your father.

Primo: Ted thinks he is in charge. He is like my dad. When my dad dies, Ted will become the know it all in the family.

Me: Speaking of that - I know this is your issue, not mine, but do you think perhaps your dad might take care of the will?

Primo: I was thinking about that. He has to make some hard decisions. Ted and Jack will think that my dad's money should be divided three ways.

Me: I don't think so. For one, they will also be getting money from their mom. Second, your parents have already given them a ton of money - thousands of dollars a year to Ted for your nephew's school and then a quarter of a million to Jack for the restaurant.

Primo: Yeah, if I have to make the decision, I will tell them that I get half of everything because of my mom and then we split the rest three ways.

Me: They might never talk to you again. But would that be so bad?

Primo: No. Ted is really getting on my nerves.

4 comments:

  1. Go Primo. Tell Ted to go piss in a hurricane.

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  2. Sounds like Primo is ready to make a plan, good.

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    Replies
    1. Love the man like crazy, but he is not a planner and has to be pushed to almost disaster to do it, but he always comes through.

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