eleemosynary

Maybe I was just procrastinating the inevitable writing of the eulogy but I decided that while I was in Long Beach, I would once again stop by my dad's house.

It's becoming a daily ritual. I drive over there. Pick up his mail. And start figuring out what we are going to do with his stuff.

I'm also concerned that if I don't go over there on a regular basis, someone will break in and steal whatever they can find.

I quickly identify all of the bills that have come in and launch all of the NRA and political donation crap that he gets. The phone bill from Verizon is due. I rip it open and can not believe how much his phone is. Jesus, get a better frickin' phone plan!

There are lots of long distance calls here. I wonder if I should give them a call?

I call a number that had at least $200 of charges to it. I hate calling people on the phone. It makes me nervous for some reason. But I dial anyway.

It sounds like this may be a fax number. I assume it is his lawyer's fax number. I know that he had spent quite a bit of time putting his will and trust together. Another mystery to solve another time.

I start poking around some more and I find a box full of checks. They are for an account that I've never seen before and from a bank that I didn't know he banked at.

The checks had his name on it and the phrase "Eleemosynary Fund."

I stared at these checks for a long time. I've never heard of an Eleemosynary Fund. My dad had never talked about this.

For whatever reason, this find disturbs me. Only because over the last 4 months, he's told me where everything was at. I know where all of his accounts are. I know how much is in them. And he never told me about this account.

I leave the checks in the hall closet where I found them.

It's time to go home and finally write what I'm going to say tomorrow.

VW