The red flag ascends as soon as the caller says “I’m __________, and I’m calling for mom/dad.”
When son calls me to schedule a meeting to talk about paying for mom’s long-term care, I hear him telling me “I’m worried about my inheritance.” When daughter calls me to ask about getting a power of attorney for mom, I hear her saying, “I need access to my mom’s bank account.” I have little interest in those concerns.
This visceral reaction is not entirely reasonable or accurate, often. An elder mom or dad, hands full with health issues, the death of friends, loss all around them, could be relieved if one of their children could call an attorney and ask about updating their estate plan, or about paying for long term care, or about creating a power of attorney. Instead of being alarmed and concerned, I should be open and helpful.
Here is how I attempt to balance my instinctive suspicion of someone who calls me on behalf of an elder with my understanding that some youngers are actually, selflessly trying to help their elders:
1. I ask to talk to the elder. I am an elder law attorney. I want the elder to be my client. I realize that she is tired, perhaps hard of hearing, maybe easily confused, but I need to hear that the concerns expressed in the call originated with her. If we are talking about estate planning (Wills; trusts; powers of attorney; medical directives), then the elder has to be my client. No one can execute those documents for her. The elder needs to talk to me and tell me she wants to hire me.
2. If I can’t talk to the elder, due to injury or illness, I ask the younger for his authority to speak for the elder, such as a power of attorney or medical directive. If the younger has no authority to speak for the elder, then the conversation either ends or leads to a discussion about how to establish that authority, such as through guardianship and/or conservatorship.
3. If we make it past the phone call and a retainer agreement to an in-person meeting, I begin the meeting with the elder and the caller, and ask the caller why she called me and thought that elder needed a lawyer. She explains her motivation to both of us, and I ask elder if he agrees that meeting with me is a good idea. If he agrees, I ask the caller to leave. I might call her back in after a while, if elder requests it.
My desire to take my orders from the elder has gotten me into trouble. My clients who have suffered a stroke know what they want to tell me, but on the tortured path to their tongues, their words can be confusing, even contradictory. Similarly, my clients with dementia may cope with their declining cognition by agreeing with whomever is in their company. One daughter urges elder to see me and to tell me what elder wants. The next day, son urges elder to see me and to tell me what elder wants. Each day I hear something different from elder, something that aligns with one child or the other. He is in the middle, appeasing them. In these cases, dad’s voice is not as important to me as dad’s place, somewhere out of the middle, where he gets the care he needs, visits from people who can focus on him rather than on family conflict, and peace.
I want to work with dad. If I can’t do that, I want to work with the people who can help me get dad to that place.