\u201cEighty-five thousand dollars, Mom. That is the package Brandon and I want.\u201d<\/p>\n
My daughter pushed a glossy brochure across the caf\u00e9 table and waited for me to admire the photographs. Instead, I stared at the price printed beneath a picture of an enormous ballroom decorated with white roses.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I wondered whether she had mistaken the number.<\/p>\n
\u201cEighty-five thousand?\u201d I repeated.<\/p>\n
Samantha sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes. And before you start complaining, that includes the venue, the catering, the decorations, and a lot of other things.\u201d<\/p>\n
I picked up the brochure.<\/p>\n
The ceremony space looked like something from a television wedding special. Crystal chandeliers hung above tables crowded with elaborate flowers. Every photograph showed champagne glasses, immaculate table settings, and people dressed as though they belonged to another world.<\/p>\n
It was beautiful.<\/p>\n
It was also more money than I had earned during some entire years of my working life.<\/p>\n
\u201cSamantha, sweetheart, how many guests are you inviting?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne hundred and eighty, possibly two hundred.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo hundred?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon has business associates. We have friends. There are family members.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her across the table.<\/p>\n
My daughter was thirty-two years old, with her father's brown eyes and a habit of lifting her chin whenever she expected an argument.<\/p>\n
She had always liked beautiful things.<\/p>\n
As a child, she saved magazine pictures of bedrooms decorated with pink curtains and ornate furniture. As a teenager, she begged for expensive shoes that every girl at school supposedly owned.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I bought those things.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I said no.<\/p>\n
Until that afternoon, I had never imagined that saying no could cost me my daughter.<\/p>\n
My name is Patricia Coleman. I was fifty-eight when this happened, and I lived alone in a two-bedroom condominium in San Diego, California.<\/p>\n
I had worked for the city for nearly thirty years before retiring. My pension was enough to cover ordinary expenses, and I had accumulated a respectable amount of savings through habits that were not particularly glamorous.<\/p>\n
I packed lunches.<\/p>\n
I drove cars until repairing them no longer made financial sense.<\/p>\n
I compared insurance policies, paid my bills promptly, and learned to distinguish between something I could afford and something I merely wanted.<\/p>\n
My husband, Robert, died eight years earlier.<\/p>\n
His death changed the shape of every ordinary day.<\/p>\n
We had been married for twenty-six years. Our marriage had included difficult seasons, occasional arguments, and plenty of ordinary happiness.<\/p>\n
We disagreed about money sometimes.<\/p>\n
Robert could buy a new fishing rod without remembering that the washing machine was making a terrible noise. I could spend three weeks researching a replacement refrigerator before deciding to purchase one.<\/p>\n
Neither of us was perfect.<\/p>\n
But we had built a home together.<\/p>\n
By the time Robert died, the condominium mortgage was paid, and our daughter was an adult.<\/p>\n
I had expected retirement to be quieter.<\/p>\n
I had not expected it to become lonely.<\/p>\n
Then my grandson Mason arrived.<\/p>\n
Mason was five, with unruly dark hair, serious brown eyes, and an extraordinary ability to make an ordinary afternoon feel important.<\/p>\n
He called me Nana Pat.<\/p>\n
Every Wednesday, Samantha dropped him at my condominium after preschool.<\/p>\n
We built roads out of wooden blocks. We made peanut butter sandwiches, carefully removing the crust because Mason insisted that crusts tasted different from bread.<\/p>\n
Sometimes we walked to the little park near my building.<\/p>\n
He loved dinosaurs, construction trucks, and asking questions that did not have simple answers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do people get old, Nana?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause we keep having birthdays.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCan you stop?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI haven't figured out how.\u201d<\/p>\n
He thought about that.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you should try harder.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed so hard that I nearly spilled my coffee.<\/p>\n
Those afternoons were the part of my week I anticipated most.<\/p>\n
I never imagined Samantha would someday use them against me.<\/p>\n
At the rooftop caf\u00e9, she was still waiting for my response.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom?\u201d<\/p>\n
I put down the brochure.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can contribute ten thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her expression barely changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe fifteen thousand if I rearrange a few investments,\u201d I continued. \u201cBut I would need to look carefully at the numbers.\u201d<\/p>\n
She blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifteen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is a substantial contribution, Samantha.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot for this wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is substantial for me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She reached for her coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon's friends had weddings that cost more than this. His cousin spent over a hundred thousand.\u201d<\/p>\n
I resisted the temptation to ask whether Brandon's cousin had also received a mortgage payment from her mother.<\/p>\n
Instead, I asked a different question.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much are you and Brandon contributing?\u201d<\/p>\n
Samantha looked irritated.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe are coordinating everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat wasn't what I asked.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon is handling certain expenses.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhich expenses?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, please.\u201d<\/p>\n
I folded my hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are asking me for a very large amount of money. I think it is reasonable to understand the budget.\u201d<\/p>\n
She leaned backward.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou always turn everything into an interrogation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am asking how you plan to pay for your wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd I'm telling you that the wedding is important to us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you don't.\u201d<\/p>\n
The waiter approached with a small plate of pastries.<\/p>\n
Neither of us touched them.<\/p>\n
Samantha took out her phone and showed me another photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook at this. This is what Brandon's business partner did for his wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n
The image showed a couple beneath an enormous arrangement of white flowers.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt's lovely,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cExactly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut their wedding is not a reason for me to spend eighty-five thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her mouth tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou own your condominium outright.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you have savings.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd your pension comes every month.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Samantha. That is how pensions work.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked offended.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you being sarcastic?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you're speaking as though everything I own is available for you to spend.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her expression changed.<\/p>\n
The irritation became something colder.<\/p>\n
\u201cI'm your only daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have nobody else to leave anything to.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n
That sentence troubled me more than the wedding price.<\/p>\n
I had not died.<\/p>\n
I was sitting across from her, drinking coffee, discussing my savings while she treated them as an inheritance that had simply arrived too early.<\/p>\n
\u201cSamantha, my money has to support me while I'm alive.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou make it sound like you're going to live forever.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope to live for quite a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen what is the point of saving everything?\u201d<\/p>\n
I glanced at the city buildings beyond the caf\u00e9 railing.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe point is that I don't know what the next twenty or thirty years will bring.\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou're impossible.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI offered fifteen thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou offered what you wanted to offer, not what I need.\u201d<\/p>\n
The distinction seemed terribly important to her.<\/p>\n
I was willing to help.<\/p>\n
She believed helping meant giving her the amount she demanded.<\/p>\n
Those were two very different things.<\/p>\n
I tried again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if we look at other venues? There must be beautiful places in San Diego that cost less.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed without amusement.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe already chose this one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you signed the contract?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes shifted briefly.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot everything is finalized.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you still have choices.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon says the deposit has to be paid soon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much is the deposit?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwenty-five thousand.\u201d<\/p>\n
I set down my coffee.<\/p>\n
For the first time that afternoon, I felt a genuine warning stir beneath my irritation.<\/p>\n
\u201cHas the venue already received any money?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSome.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom whom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy does that matter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you are asking me to finance a wedding, and I would like to know whether commitments have already been made.\u201d<\/p>\n
Samantha's fingers tightened around her phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon said you would behave like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did Brandon say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat you would make me beg.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't want you to beg.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe said you would use money to control everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid he also tell you how much money he intended to contribute?\u201d<\/p>\n
She pushed her chair backward slightly.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don't like him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI barely know him well enough to dislike him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat's not fair.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen help me understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
Samantha turned away.<\/p>\n
Brandon was thirty-six, a polished, confident man who said he worked in property development and commercial renovation.<\/p>\n
He drove an expensive vehicle, wore beautiful suits, and had a habit of describing every purchase as an investment.<\/p>\n
He had been charming when Samantha first introduced him.<\/p>\n
He brought flowers to my condominium. He complimented my cooking. He asked thoughtful questions about Robert.<\/p>\n
But he also seemed unusually interested in my finances.<\/p>\n
During one Thanksgiving dinner, he had asked whether my mortgage was paid.<\/p>\n
At Christmas, he wanted to know whether I had considered selling my condominium and moving somewhere smaller.<\/p>\n
A month later, while helping me move a bookcase, he commented on how valuable properties in my neighborhood had become.<\/p>\n
Each question could have been innocent.<\/p>\n
Taken together, they made me uncomfortable.<\/p>\n
I had mentioned that discomfort to Samantha once.<\/p>\n
She accused me of treating Brandon like a criminal.<\/p>\n
Afterward, I kept my concerns to myself.<\/p>\n
Now she was sitting across from me, repeating his objections to my financial boundaries.<\/p>\n
\u201cSamantha,\u201d I said gently, \u201cI love you. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
She remained silent.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want you to have a wonderful wedding. But I am not willing to compromise my retirement security to pay for it.\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked directly at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you don't support my marriage.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThose are not the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey are to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt tired.<\/p>\n
I had imagined spending this afternoon discussing flowers, dresses, and whether Mason would wear a little suit.<\/p>\n
Instead, we were arguing about my condominium.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifteen thousand dollars is my maximum,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Her face became still.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what Dad used to say about you?\u201d<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe said you'd grow old alone because you cared more about money than people.\u201d<\/p>\n
For several seconds, I could not speak.<\/p>\n
Robert had been dead eight years.<\/p>\n
He could not defend himself against the words Samantha attributed to him.<\/p>\n
Neither could I ask him whether he had ever said them.<\/p>\n
But I remembered the last months of his life, when money suddenly became a practical and frightening concern.<\/p>\n
I remembered the insurance statements, medication costs, and hospital bills.<\/p>\n
I remembered sitting beside his bed while he worried about leaving me with enough to live on.<\/p>\n
Whatever disagreements we had experienced, Robert had never wanted me to be financially vulnerable.<\/p>\n
I looked at Samantha.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was a cruel thing to say.\u201d<\/p>\n
She shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes the truth hurts.\u201d<\/p>\n
I could have answered angrily.<\/p>\n
I could have reminded her of the money we had spent on her education, the car we helped her buy, and the countless times we provided support without expecting repayment.<\/p>\n
But I did not want love to become a ledger.<\/p>\n
So I said only, \u201cI am sorry you feel that way.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cKeep your money, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSamantha.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou clearly need it more than I do.\u201d<\/p>\n
She placed cash on the table for her coffee.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon't come to the wedding.\u201d<\/p>\n
My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease don't say that because you're upset.\u201d<\/p>\n
She reached for her handbag.<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then she delivered the sentence that would echo through my home for the next several days.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon't call me again.\u201d<\/p>\n
I watched her walk toward the elevator.<\/p>\n
I wanted to follow her.<\/p>\n
Instead, I remained seated until the waiter quietly asked whether everything was all right.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d I said automatically.<\/p>\n
It was not true.<\/p>\n
That afternoon, I drove home along streets I had traveled hundreds of times.<\/p>\n
At a red light, I picked up my phone.<\/p>\n
I typed a message.<\/p>\n
Samantha, I love you. We can disagree about money without losing each other.<\/p>\n
I pressed send.<\/p>\n
The message did not go through.<\/p>\n
I tried calling.<\/p>\n
The call went directly to voicemail.<\/p>\n
Later, when I opened our shared family photo album, I discovered that my access had disappeared.<\/p>\n
The photographs of Mason were gone.<\/p>\n
I sat on the edge of my bed, holding my phone.<\/p>\n
I could accept Samantha being angry.<\/p>\n
I could accept her needing time.<\/p>\n
What frightened me was the speed with which she seemed willing to erase me.<\/p>\n
Saturday passed without a message.<\/p>\n
On Sunday, I attended church and avoided the question everyone asked afterward.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow is your beautiful grandson?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe's growing so fast,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
That much was true.<\/p>\n
Monday morning, I considered driving to Samantha's house.<\/p>\n
I knew her neighborhood. I knew where she parked.<\/p>\n
I knew Mason would probably be home in the afternoon.<\/p>\n
But I imagined Samantha opening the door and becoming angry while he stood behind her.<\/p>\n
I did not want him caught between us.<\/p>\n
So I went grocery shopping instead.<\/p>\n
I bought milk, bread, and the small dinosaur-shaped crackers Mason liked.<\/p>\n
Only after reaching home did I realize he would not be coming to eat them.<\/p>\n
On Tuesday, I cleaned the guest bedroom.<\/p>\n
Mason's little pillow remained near the headboard.<\/p>\n
A toy dinosaur lay beneath the bed.<\/p>\n
I picked it up.<\/p>\n
Its tail had been repaired with a strip of clear tape.<\/p>\n
Mason had insisted that the dinosaur was not broken.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe just had an accident, Nana.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat on the bed holding that ridiculous plastic creature.<\/p>\n
That was when I cried.<\/p>\n
Not loudly.<\/p>\n
There was nobody there to hear me.<\/p>\n
I cried because the child I loved had become the missing piece in an argument he did not understand.<\/p>\n
Wednesday was worse.<\/p>\n
At three o'clock, the time Samantha usually arrived, I found myself listening for her car.<\/p>\n
At three fifteen, I put away the sandwich ingredients.<\/p>\n
At four, I switched off the television.<\/p>\n
I did not know how much of my grief came from missing Mason and how much came from discovering what my daughter believed she could demand of me.<\/p>\n
That evening, I called an old family friend.<\/p>\n
Her name was Margaret Chen.<\/p>\n
Margaret had been a practicing attorney for more than thirty years, concentrating on estate planning and elder law.<\/p>\n
She had known Robert and me since Samantha was a little girl.<\/p>\n
Samantha used to call her Aunt Margaret.<\/p>\n
Although Margaret was not related to us, she attended birthdays, graduations, and family celebrations.<\/p>\n
She had helped Robert and me prepare our estate documents years earlier.<\/p>\n
After Robert died, she updated mine.<\/p>\n
When she answered, I tried to sound cheerful.<\/p>\n
\u201cPatricia. What a surprise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have a minute?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor you? Of course.\u201d<\/p>\n
I told her about the wedding.<\/p>\n
I told her about the argument.<\/p>\n
I told her Samantha had blocked me.<\/p>\n
Margaret listened without interrupting.<\/p>\n
Finally, she asked, \u201cHas Samantha requested access to your accounts?\u201d<\/p>\n
The question startled me.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot directly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHas Brandon?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHas either of them suggested putting your property into a trust they control?\u201d<\/p>\n
I hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cBrandon once mentioned that I should think about estate planning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is not necessarily concerning by itself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe also asked about the value of my condominium.\u201d<\/p>\n
Margaret was quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cPatricia, do you remember the financial power of attorney we discussed when Robert died?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you ever execute one naming Samantha?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. We decided to revisit it later.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do you say that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause when somebody is angry about not receiving money, I prefer that they not already have broad authority over the person refusing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared toward my kitchen window.<\/p>\n
\u201cMargaret, she's my daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe would never steal from me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI hope you're right.\u201d<\/p>\n
Those four words stayed with me.<\/p>\n
Margaret did not accuse Samantha of anything.<\/p>\n
She simply reminded me that legal authority should never be given to anyone under pressure.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf anyone brings you documents,\u201d she said, \u201ctake them home. Let independent counsel review them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would anyone bring me documents?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don't know that they will. I'm asking you to protect yourself if they do.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before hanging up, she added something important.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can love your daughter without surrendering your independence.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wished those words had made me feel better.<\/p>\n
Instead, they made me wonder whether Margaret knew something I did not.<\/p>\n
On Thursday afternoon, my phone buzzed.<\/p>\n
An unfamiliar number appeared.<\/p>\n
I almost ignored it.<\/p>\n
Then I read the message.<\/p>\n
Mom, we need to talk. I want us to make peace. Dinner Friday? Grand Bistro. 9:00 p.m. Love you. Samantha.<\/p>\n
I read it three times.<\/p>\n
After four days of silence, there it was.<\/p>\n
An invitation.<\/p>\n
A promise of peace.<\/p>\n
And those two words.<\/p>\n
Love you.<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe she regretted what had happened.<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe she missed me.<\/p>\n
Most of all, I wanted to believe Mason would soon be back on my living room carpet, telling me that dinosaurs needed hospitals.<\/p>\n
I typed a reply.<\/p>\n
I'll be there. I love you too.<\/p>\n
This time, the message went through.<\/p>\n
I told myself that was a good sign.<\/p>\n
Friday evening, I chose my favorite blue blouse.<\/p>\n
I had worn it for Mason's First Communion.<\/p>\n
Samantha had taken a photograph of us standing outside the church, Mason between us, all three smiling.<\/p>\n
I looked at that photograph before leaving.<\/p>\n
Then I put my phone inside my worn leather handbag and drove downtown.<\/p>\n
I arrived thirty minutes early.<\/p>\n
For several minutes, I sat in my parked car rehearsing what I wanted to say.<\/p>\n
I would apologize for anything I had said harshly.<\/p>\n
I would repeat my offer of fifteen thousand dollars.<\/p>\n
I would explain that refusing an expense did not mean rejecting her marriage.<\/p>\n
I would ask whether Mason was all right.<\/p>\n
I would not mention Brandon's interest in my condominium unless Samantha raised the subject herself.<\/p>\n
At eight fifty-five, I stepped out of the car.<\/p>\n
The Grand Bistro occupied the ground floor of a beautiful downtown building.<\/p>\n
Inside, soft music played over the murmur of conversation.<\/p>\n
A hostess smiled when I gave my name.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Coleman? Your party is waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n
She led me past the main dining room.<\/p>\n
We walked through a narrow passage toward a heavy wooden door.<\/p>\n
I thought perhaps Samantha had reserved a private table so we could talk without strangers listening.<\/p>\n
The hostess opened the door.<\/p>\n
I stepped inside.<\/p>\n
Samantha sat at the head of a long table.<\/p>\n
Brandon sat beside her in a navy suit.<\/p>\n
Across from them were three men I had never met.<\/p>\n
Each had a dark briefcase.<\/p>\n
There were folders on the table.<\/p>\n
There were pens.<\/p>\n
There were glasses of water.<\/p>\n
There were no menus.<\/p>\n
And there were no open arms waiting for me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom,\u201d Samantha said, \u201csit down.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked from her face to the strangers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
Brandon smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe're glad you came, Patricia.\u201d<\/p>\n
One of the men stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cMrs. Coleman, my name is Thomas Ellis. I'm an attorney.\u201d<\/p>\n
The other two introduced themselves as Daniel Reeves and Michael Foster.<\/p>\n
I did not remember their names immediately.<\/p>\n
I was looking at the folder Ellis had just pushed toward the empty chair.<\/p>\n
A printed label displayed my name.<\/p>\n
Patricia Anne Coleman.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are there attorneys here?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Samantha gestured toward the chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause we need to settle something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought we were having dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe will talk first.\u201d<\/p>\n
I remained standing.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ellis opened the folder.<\/p>\n
He began explaining that families sometimes benefited from simplifying financial management as parents grew older.<\/p>\n
He mentioned convenience.<\/p>\n
He mentioned continuity.<\/p>\n
He mentioned responsible planning.<\/p>\n
Then he turned the first page toward me.<\/p>\n
At the top were four words.<\/p>\n
GENERAL POWER OF ATTORNEY.<\/p>\n
I stared at them.<\/p>\n
The document was not about a wedding.<\/p>\n
It was about control over my financial life.<\/p>\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cSamantha, what have you done?\u201d<\/p>\n
END PART 1<\/p>\n