The year was 1981, the state was Florida, and I had just flown back from Germany for my father's funeral. My sister and her family were down from New York, and, a few days after the funeral, we were sitting with my mother in a lawyer's office in downtown Pensacola. My mother had just learned that she didn't have any say over what happened to the money she and my father had saved over the years, and she didn't have any control over what happened to the house they had paid for together. She was at the mercy of the ... read more
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