Lesson 2: Beneficiary Betrayal

I could write volumes on the lousy real estate mistake Laura and a fellow teacher I’ll call Annie made when they bought a house in Austin. With no experience in home ownership, they picked a place that resembled a backyard shed and was built just as efficiently. We were presented with it as a done deal when Laura needed some money for a down payment so it was too late to talk them out of this giant blunder. In their naivety, they had signed a contract to buy a money pit.

Annie spent countless holidays, vacations and weeks at our house during the early “house” years because her entire family lived out of the country. Our family embraced her as a second daughter and treated her with all the love and care that we gave our own children. She was needy for family love. We had plenty to give. What fools we turned out to be.

The house in East Austin was located in an area that they were both convinced would be rezoned commercial and it would be worth twice what they paid for it soon. It was an uneducated rookie mistake that never paid off. I still can’t figure out if Laura was in one of her manic states when she did this because she was normally so frugal, or if she was just a sheep that was led to the pen because she wanted to believe it would be a great investment. Nevertheless, on a teacher’s salary, neither young woman could afford the house payment on her own so they somehow were convinced to pay into annuities payable on death to the other. I bet you can see what’s coming.

A lot of water went under the bridge, literally, but a few years later they finally sold the house. Laura had spent a couple of years living in it alone and paying for all the repairs while Annie lived in a foreign country before returning back to Austin. Laura finally moved out and Annie took over the house. However, Laura’s name was still on the mortgage so she wouldn’t have qualified to buy anything else. The relief when it finally sold and that horrible burden was gone was immense. Time goes by and….

Laura died.

Although she had told us about the annuity when they bought the house, she mentioned later that she had changed the beneficiary back to us because she no longer had any financial responsibility to Annie. Unfortunately, somehow that never really happened. On her meticulous list of assets, Laura left the phone number for us and the name of the agent who had sold her the policy. What a shock I got when I made that call.

Annie too was very surprised to hear she was still the beneficiary when I notified her but assured me she would give us the money to us to help pay for the funeral. Annie, if you ever read this I still have several exchanges of text messages where you lovingly assured me that it would all be taken care of. She fully understood the money was no longer meant to be hers.

Yet, she changed her mind.

Annie’s last conversation with me was a month after Laura died when she said, “I have to take care of myself.” And she did. To the amount of $24,000. Ironically, that was the exact amount that Laura’s funeral and marker cost.

No matter what it is, you need to check your beneficiaries on a regular basis. Most jobs have life insurance on their employees, along with other assorted insurance plans that are thrown in during a tenure. The great question is: Who do you want to get that money if you were to die tomorrow?

I assure you it isn’t Annie.

Lesson 4: Say SOMETHING

I mentioned earlier that the most constant comment we heard, and it continues to this day, is from people who “just can’t imagine.” At least those people said something.

We were totally amazed at the outpouring of love we received from people when Laura died. The funeral home was full visitation night and the next day for her service. People we hadn’t seen in years showed up. My former students and their parents came, along with a wonderful group of my former Berkner colleagues. A large collection of her Austin friends came en masse Friday with more driving up and back on Saturday. My best friend in high school drove up from Conroe. Craig’s friends showed up with hugs and food and surrounded him and us with compassion. Charitable donations we requested in lieu of flowers came pouring in along with cards and notes. Ironically, I don’t remember even how I made it through the days from the time she was found until the funeral, but I remember well who brought comfort with their presence.

Sadly, I am also aware of the “friends” that never bothered to even a card.

Being ignored by people who I felt affection only added to the pain of our loss. Which brings the point that people claim they don’t know what to say to express sympathy. I tell you that what you say isn’t important as long as you say something! We were always very transparent about our daughter’s illness, and we never considered hiding the fact that she committed suicide.  We believed, as our minister said at her funeral, “Laura did not kill herself. Her disease killed her.” If reticence on being sympathetic was because she took her own life, then it was a compound wrong.

I still look at the cards we received and the comments posted on her Restland Obituary page because they bring me joy. People who knew and loved our Laura knew what an incredible woman she was despite the fact she battled such an awful disease. On the first Mother’s Day after her death, I received two cards from people who knew what a hard day it would be. I cherish those cards and those people. Another of her friends who lives in Spain continues to send flowers every year at Thanksgiving. She remains thankful for the childhood friendship they shared. I remain thankful for her.

I read this somewhere and am sorry that I can’t give credit to where I got it, but it said: “What we all still face at the close of each day, and that is a missing piece of ourselves, a gaping painful wound that never closes. We live with the frustration of knowing that this is a pain that we must endure for the rest of our lives, and that my friends is so tiresome and sad.”

I couldn’t have said it any better.

Because of this reality, it is important for those of you supporting a grieving friend or loved one to remember, they are forever changed, and they are forever broken, and they are forever grieving

When someone dies, another person feels pain. It makes no difference what you say, what they hear is “I care about you.”

What I wish I had done differently after she died is next

Epilogue

I’ve mentioned Laura’s disease so many times that it finally occurred to me last night that I needed to add just a little bit more. Sadly, bipolar disease is hereditary. Neither Dennis, Craig nor I got that gene, but it is out there in the family tree and Laura lost that DNA lottery. She knew that; she saw what it did to people and led her to announce at age 20 that she would never have children because “this disease dies with me.” At the time we thought she would change her mind. We still remained blind to what was truly her life sentence.

Several years later when Craig blessed this family with his first son, Laura was overjoyed as we all were. But in a moment of candor that night she said to us, “You know I will never have a life like this. It is all I can do to take care of myself. I could never take care of another person.” By then we knew enough of her trials and realized she was being extremely self-aware. We were somewhat relieved. She lived alone for most of her 20s and 30s which led her to admit one night that, “I just can’t sustain a relationship. No one can live with me and my disease.” We worried night and day about her but she was an adult living life on her own terms. We settled for the names and numbers of two people who we could call if we were desperate to have someone physically go check on her condition. Although she had an incredible group of friends who loved her, they were all people who understood how she was and were willing to accept friendship as she had it to give. Being a “giver” was definitely one of her strongest traits when her mind allowed it.

Understand that there are many, probably thousands, of people with bipolar depression that marry, have children and live somewhat normal lives. In fact, I know two quite well. Laura wasn’t one of them.  New medications have come on the market constantly since she died and I hold out great hope that a more successful, longer lasting drug will be developed before we might ever have to face this again in our family.

Laura swallowed pills that didn’t make her well, only relieved symptoms for short periods before they lost their effectiveness. She was incredibly successful in two careers, a fact which amazes us to this day. She was loved by all of her family, an army of friends, and countless special education students who she adored. I only hope that she really knew that.

So, I will really end this time and ask that you “Think of Laura.” I know she’d want it that way. Please take a look here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpW5KnJ_7As