Yesterday I thought Milt had just entered the hospital that morning, since that's when we got the call from his son, my ex-step brother-in-law. But he's been there since Saturday. I felt a little irked that no one had called me sooner, but that's how it is with ex-step-families, I guess. He'd already moved from a regular, semi-private room to a pre-ICU room, with ICU-style monitors and a nurse right there in the room 24 hours a day. He told us that in the semi-private room, he'd suffered from some kind of panic attack. He couldn't catch his breath, and the nurses didn't respond to his panic button. So he lay there gasping, he said, drowning. "I never want to go through that experience again," he told us, and at first, I thought he meant it literally.

This room has an expansive view of the East River, which is more a benefit to his visitors since Milt's bed, though right near the window, faces toward the city he's lived in for the last 6 decades.

Milt was glad to see us, and pretty perky considering. He rubbed his unshaven face and apologized. The razor, he said, was too heavy. I'd offer to give him a shave today, but I've never done that for another person in my life. You'd think the nurses would know how to do this. Milt's voice is gone, all he can do is whisper, but we're used to this. He lost a good deal of his vocal cords to cancer a few years ago. When the nurse leans over him to fuss with his catheter, he says/whispers, "isn't she beautiful" to me. She smiles shyly. Later he tells me, "see, that's how I get extra attention." I think she's on to him, though.

Talking wears him out, but he can't stop when we're there. He tells us about a book he read in the library of his apartment complex. I want to figure out who the author is (Sarah somebody, he says), and get him one of her works he hasn't read yet. Only I'm not sure which ones he's read. He tells me he's in love with her writing style. Detective novels. The detective is Jewish, but didn't know he was (because of an adoption mixup). I'm sure I can find it all but maybe not in time. I'd like to be able to read him the next one in the series. So he won't have to talk.

He was having trouble lifting his spoon, too, so I fed him his dinner. Hated the fish. Loved the cherry jello. I promised to come back today to feed him jello again. It's a pleasure to find a way to help him, after all the kindnesses he's shown me in the last 30 years.

My son and husband leave to let Milt rest. He motions me toward him and tells me when -- if -- he ever leaves this place, I have to go to his apartment with him immediately, because he has something to give me. "It's not a fortune," he says. Just what he's put away in cash for my son, and the two step-grandkids who live in upstate New York. The three of them are his late wife's only grandchildren, and of them, only Jody is her blood relative. But for Milt, they are all his, too. It throws me for a second, though. Haven't they told him he's not getting out of here? I tell him, don't worry, I'm sure one of the boys (his sons) can do it.

"Oh no," he says. "I don't want them to know I have that kind of cash lying around."

Which means he doesn't realize that they won't be getting mad at him for things like that ever again.

It dawns on me: I'm sitting alone in the hospital room with him, he can only whisper, so the nurse and other patients can't hear him, and he tells me that he wants to give my son and his other two step-grandkids some large amount of cash that his own kids don't know about. I imagine trying to tell his oldest son that this conversation took place. Maybe if I left it up to the brothers to decide whether to honor their father's wish, since I'm the only one who heard it. Maybe I can just let it go. But it's not really my money, or my wish. It's the grandkids'. And Milt's.

I'd like to figure out what to do before I go back today to spoon some more jello. In case I have to ask Milt about it in order to make sure the kids get what he wants them to have. I'd like to hear your ideas.

Didn't you once tell me, "You never really know someone until you share an inheritance with them"?

I'm sure that was you.

I don't have an answer, but I'll think about it and get back to you.

My Memere used to say that. It sounds a bit like Oscar Wilde, and not a little timeless, so I'm not sure she made it up.

Many people have secrets that their families never know. Is this situation worthy of that?

Would his family be terribly hurt if they missed out on some money. I read nothing that indicated it was a large amount?

Do they deserve to receive his money against his wishes?

Would you be willing to turn the money over to them after he dies, if you held it for him for a few weeks and then found that your thoughts had changed?

Are you so uncomfortable with being placed in this position that you want to be out of it?

You have always seemed worthy and capable of making a decision like this on your own with no help from me or anyone else here.

This one is easy. You’re troubled because in this instance, perversely, doing what is right happens to be a benefit to you—or more accurately your child and therefore feels as though you’re doing something on the sly that’s immoral to benefit yourself at the expense of a dying man.

That’s not the case.

Milt’s explicit desire for this to go the grandchildren through you and not through his children is exactly that. His explicit desire. It is not OK for you to thwart that desire by allowing those ends to be treated as subordinate to the judgment and value schemes of others (be they his sons or you).

The fact that doing so puts you at odds with the what the sons might desire (and worse yet, do) or feels wrong because you or your son benefits at Milt’s sons’ expense is irrelevant (and worse yet to act on that basis would harm Milt and your son. It’s Milt’s money and his wish and his ends. To treat those ends as subordinate to someone else’s value scheme would be the unethical behavior—not to honor that request.

(You know this already. Just confirming it. Knowing you as I do I understand it's harder to do when we're in the path of the largesse.)

It is an awkward situation, without a doubt. You could suffer some embarrassment from this. If he recovers and gives you the money...no problem. If he tells you to go get the cash and then dies or even forgets, his family could make false accuasations against you.

If I know human nature, and I really do, you can bet your ass there will be a fight over his money. You can't be put into a position of just taking the money and then claiming he told you to do it. They will say you are lying, even if they know better. My guess is there will be trouble even if Milt gives you the money on the up and up.

If Milt is coherent, tell him what I just told you (that you are concerned about just going to get the money for fear of what his family will say). He might then make some arrangements (maybe with a third unbiased party) to accomplish his wishes. If that is impossible, then I would let it go, if I were you. The money is not worth the possible fallout.

Most of all, don't risk appearing to be too eager to get the money, in Milt's eyes.

Now, if you made all this up....then just grab the cash and run.

Jack

Your mention of Milt's beard stuck in my chest. It brought up a childhood reading memory and its echo from recently. My father-in-law was always a man who prided himself on being polished and well put-together - if ever a man earned the title of clotheshorse, it was he. A couple of days before he died, he was in and out of consciousness due to his medications, but during his lucid moments it was obvious that it pained him to be caught unkempt and unable to do anything about it. I remember actually being scared when my mother-in-law asked me if I could do it for him, since I'd never done it for someone else either. I did it anyway, without doing any major damage, and by the next time he woke up he was clean-shaven. Mama #2 (MIL) said that he was very happy. I took her word for it - I was out in the hospital garage sobbing.

So I guess my advice, aside from agreeing with Demosthenes2 about the money: offer him the shave. If he's worried about your inexperience, he'll decline politely. But there's also the distinct possibility that his appreciation for it would far outweigh any nicks you managed to give him. Bring lots of Kleenex.

At least mostly.

It sounds like you have the type of relationship with Milt that you can be frank.

"Milt, about that money for the boys. I suggest you put it in writing. Just to be clear."

If you decide that you don't want to make Milt confront the reality, of his prognosis or his end run around his own sons, then you might as well forget the conversation ever occurred. It will be up to Milt's sons to decide what to do.

Maybe later, when it's over, you can take your ex aside and relate the conversation to him, at least to the extent that Milt told you he wanted the money to benefit his grandchildren. Maybe your ex can process that and find a way to make that happen.

I've seen plenty of fights about who gets what. If you wish to pursue this, I think Milt should make this request in front of an impartial witness. But while it is Milt's wish that your son get some of the money, in the end the Nomists may be better off without it.

Khentkawes

Jeez, you get into some tough situations, don't you? My advice is this: Find an attorney who will help you. Type up a document stating what Uncle Milt wants you to do. Take the document along with two witnesses (one of whom could be a notary public) and get Milt to sign the dcoument in your and their presence.

Otherwise, you set yourself up for a serious law suit, especially if the money s substantial. You could also expose yourself to criminal prosecution if someone can claim you obtained a key to Milt's home spuriouosly.

Failing that, get Uncle Milt to sign a piece of paper stating how much money is in his home, so there is no argument about that later on. Armed with that, tell the grandkids and Milt's kids too, making it clear what his wishes were. You will get some argument if real money is involved, but at least you have Milt's signature on a piece of paper indicating that he had the money and wanted it to go to the grandkids.

Lastly, the author is probably Sara Peretsky, who writes pretty good detective novels about Chicago. Bookstores will have her novels. Tempo turned me on to her several years ago.

I got stuck in a pointless meeting for the last hour plus, antsy to get out and get to see Milt and make sure he's fed.

I've read your ideas, and I'm going to think it all over on the bus on the way down.

For a quick sum: Milt had a lot of money and gave it all to his three sons already. The amount in his home is such a tiny amount in comparison that they couldn't possibly know about it or care that much. I'm more worried about the appearance of something besides concern for Milt here, than I am about hurting any of them financially because they're all quite well set.

I'll let you all know what happens. Thanks for your support and good ideas.

But couldn't you just ask Milt to give his apartment keys to you so you can go there, get the money, and bring it into the hospital? Milt could then disburse it any way he wanted to, and his sons, who are clueless about its existence anyway, remain clueless?

Two reasons to take Milt's words lightly:

1. People with terminal illness often have fairly unstable wishes, and will adopt various ploys (including self deception) to forge intimacy with whoever seems willing to pay them attention. Impression reinforced by Milt's self contradiction - he thinks he's getting out, but also in a rush to disburse his assets.

2. Personal responsibility: like in everything else, if people have been inept about arranging their bequests, it's not unfair that they pay a price for it (wishes remain unfulfilled).

I find it strange that some people think it's more unkind to a dying man to ignore his wishes (without his knowledge) than accost him with an army of lawyers, witnesses and family showdowns in his last living moments.

Loosely related, reminds me of Kieslowski's Decalog (episode: "thou shall honor thy father and mother.")

"The money is not worth the possible fallout. Most of all, don't risk appearing to be too eager to get the money, in Milt's eyes."

What an intensely selfish reason to be selfless. Viva la evolucion!