While driving from the airport in Calgary to may parent's house, my dad's body still (apparently) cooling on the floor of his kitchen, I knew that I had to figure out immediately:
- what bills had been paid
- what bills hadn't been paid
- how I might access their funds so I could pay their bills
- how I might figure out what they owed.
- how I might figure out what income they had.
- how I might figure out whether or not my Dad had finished marking his class' midterms (he was an instructor at a technical institute)
- how I might figure out where my Mum could live, since she obviously couldn't stay where she was.
They had wills. I know they had wills. My sister and I were co-executors.
Right?
Dad died. He left Mum behind, malnourished, dehydrated, unable to walk or look after herself,
and he thought he'd been taking care of her. This is the story of how I, along with my sister and wife,
tried to deal with what he left behind.
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