Several days ago my mom called and told me to go check for her purse in my trunk. My mom hasn’t been in my car for over a week. She gives me a vivid description of placing her purse into my empty trunk.
I calmly tell her my car has a hatchback and it’s definitely not empty. I ask her where we were going because I don’t remember her in being in my car recently. She is immediately aggravated by my response and nastily demands that I go look in my trunk.
I call her back five minutes later to confirm that her purse is not in my trunk.
Over the next few days we go through the purse being left at their country club, at their retirement community in the bridge room, under the bed in whichever home she’s not in – we check them all and the purse is not there, nor has it been turned in.
One of my favorite movies is Pulp Fiction. There is one scene where the two main characters are shot at from close range, but not a single bullet hits either of them. One of the characters chocks it up to divine intervention.
My mom has maintained a vice-like grip on her checkbook. I monitor checking activity weekly and review cash flow monthly. I am left to perform forensic accounting to make sure the right bills are paid and flag any suspicious checks. This would be much easier if I could just pay the bills.
When we were with the doctor last week, I broke down in tears when I admitted that we are considering suing our parents for guardianship. While my mom was shocked in the moment, the offer to turn over the bill paying has passed and she wants to replace the checkbook.
Divine intervention, as defined on Wikipedia, is a term for a miracle perceived to be caused by a Deity’s active involvement in the human world. My God answered my prayers on this one.
I can now organized the finances to keep the bulk of their income secure by setting up a checking account that my parents can use but that does not put the bulk of their income at risk. Relieved.