Where There's a Will, There's a Way

I missed my post yesterday because I do have a real job that helps pay the bills and had to deal with something for a client. With his permission, I want to relate part of what happened and get on my soapbox. Names and locations are changed for some element of privacy, but the facts are without embellishment.

Bill and Steve are in their mid-40’s and had been a couple for almost 15 years. They’ve lived together in Western North Carolina for 12 of those years in a house that they built together, but which was entirely in Bill’s name.

During that time, they went to Bill’s family gatherings (it was his home town), celebrated holidays together, had dinner in Bill's parent’s home and did all those things that families do. It appeared that Bill’s family had worked through any problems that they may have had with the fact that their son was gay and had created a life for himself with the person of his choosing.

Bill and Steve did those things that couples do. They paid the mortgage and the bills, worked in the yard, went on trips. They replaced their appliances as they wore out, sometimes using a credit card that Bill had and sometimes using one that Steve had.

Being the same size, shirts, socks, underwear, jeans were all intermingled. There were no “Bill clothes” or “Steve clothes”, but rather a common closet of “our clothes”.

They didn’t interact a lot with their neighbors (they lived in a rural area) other than to smile and wave, but were very active with friends who had similar interests on the internet. Their virtual community was, in fact, much more important than their physical location.

They had a business together. Bill was the creative force behind it, while Steve was charged with managing the invoices, paying the bills, and making sure that the processes were managed to keep the customers happy. After almost three years of struggling, it was just starting to turn a profit.

Then one day Bill was in a terrible accident and didn’t survive. It was a shock for everyone that this man in the prime of his life was no more. His parents and brother were numb with the shock. Steve became a zombie for the first couple of days.

Then things started to change, very rapidly.

After 15 years of togetherness, Steve was allowed no input into the funeral arrangements. At the funeral, which was held at a church which neither Bill nor Steve had ever attended, Steve asked an aunt where to go before the service.

She sent him to the Fellowship Hall, away from the family in the Sanctuary. Nobody came to get him. Not one family member, of all the aunts, uncles or cousins came up to him to say they were sorry for his loss.

Nobody sent a single plate of food to his house.

After the funeral, he went back to his home, to the place he’d lived for 15 years, to try and figure out what to do with his life. Although there was a big hole where Bill had previously existed, there was still a business to attend, cats to feed, plants to water and bills to pay.

Then about a week later, the family said they didn’t want to talk with him any more. Bill's parents and brother cut off all communication. Steve knew something was up when, the following Thursday about 4:00 in the afternoon, the parents showed up.

They had a deputy and a locksmith, and were intent on having Steve removed from the house they now claimed as their own.

He was to pack a suitcase of “his” clothes, under their supervision, and leave the property. They had gone to an attorney and started probate proceedings on the estate. From a legal standpoint, Steve was a stranger to the estate. He would not inherit the house that he had helped build despite the pond he’d dug in the yard, the trees he’d planted or the myriad of other improvements he’d helped put in.

He would have to prove who bought the refrigerator, the washer, the dryer, the drapes in the living room and the rugs in the bathroom. Of course, any records that might have related to that (and in reality, who keeps those kinds of receipts?) were locked up in the house from which he was barred.

In an instant, he found himself widowed and homeless, and without many legal rights.

So the lawyers geared up to fight. It would be an uphill battle for Steve unless a Will was found. One which, since he was barred from the property, was unlikely to be discovered because the parents now stood to inherit everything.

Initially there were some attempts at negotiation. The family agreed to let Steve stay in his home an additional few days, but he wasn’t to remove anything. He was just to separate “his” stuff from Bill’s stuff and then they’d let him know what they decided he could keep and take with him.

Can you imagine trying to sort through your grief and at the same time pick out what you need to take and what you need to leave to go start your life over again? Having to inventory every single item in your home and try to remember when you bought a particular dish or lamp or table and then find financial records to support it? Or just having to live amid the chaos of a semi-boxed house for a week while trying to pull yourself together enough over the shock of losing your partner to think rationally and figure out where to go next?

All under the watchful eye of people with whom you thought there was a mutual affection, but who were now intent on keeping everything that was “theirs” by way of inheritance.

So I was busy with my “real” job yesterday, and missed the post. Sometimes, other people’s needs are more important than our routines and schedules.

Before I climb down off my soapbox, I want to tell you that this is not an unusual situation. Gay and lesbian couples who have not gone through the drill of getting all their information together and making sure their affairs are in order, and then keeping on top of those things to make sure that their wishes are honored endure this same treatment daily across the United States.

It’s very different than the rights afforded to traditional married couples. But is there any justification for it other than the imposition of one person’s religious beliefs on someone else?

Oh, a final comment. The specific reason that I was gone yesterday? It seems that while sorting through the socks to determine which were Bills and which were Steve’s an envelope was discovered. A used manila mailer that might have gone directly into the trash, other than the fact that it was in an unusual location.

Inside was a preprinted form that Bill had filled out several years ago, with the heading “Last Will and Testament”.

It’s not written by a lawyer, isn’t witnessed or notarized, but it is a Will and makes his wishes known. It needed to go to the courthouse for filing. It will be a long fight between the two sides, and getting to a final outcome will be both time consuming and expensive. But it lets Steve stay in his home for a while, and try to operate the business.

The relationship between Steve and Bill’s family is irreparable. Civility upon chance meetings at the grocery store may even be too much to ask.

You can never un-say what you’ve said, and actions sometimes say things the loudest.