The door opened and Nicu welcomed me in. How are you, boss? he said in a thick Romanian accent, before turning and leading me down the hall to the common room. I smelled bleach-laden disinfectant and air freshener and Nicu’s cologne and my eyes watered.
My dad needs your help.
What do you mean?
I mean he has this girlfriend and she’s cut him off from us.
Who’s us?
My sister. My wife. My kids. Me.
Why didn’t you see him when he was in the hospital?
The hospital?
Dawn Simpson is on the line for you.
Who?
Dawn Simpson. She says you did estate planning work for her friend, Bob Kirk.
Her friend?
That’s what she said.
OK. I picked up the phone. Hello. This is Tim.
Mom’s birthday is August 13, and this year that date got me thinking again about moms in my work and how they demonstrate the tireless devotion that my mom poured into my brothers and me.
We walked toward downtown on the Hawthorne Bridge, my three adult kids, my son-in-law, and my grandson in a stroller, and I.
Some of my clients don’t have to imagine this nightmare scenario because they lived it: Adult daughter, mentally ill and homeless, was picked up by police and eventually admitted to a psychiatric unit of a local hospital.
I’d like you to take the stand, Mr. McNeil.
I looked up from my legal pad at the judge. Me, your honor?
Please, she said.
But I’m not on trial here.
Literally, I’ll be the judge of that, she said. Take the stand.
These conflicts resulted in this elder lawyer being in court over the last few weeks:
1. Mom objected to daughters’ petition to have a professional guardian and conservator appointed for her.
2. Veteran objected to petition to have professional guardian appointed for him.
When I explain to friends that I do a lot of work for professional guardians, my friends often don’t know what to make of it. The thought of someone getting paid to make decisions for an unrelated person is foreign to them.
