At Mom's house last night. I ask her about Marianne's Social Security Number and briefly relay the disaster conversation I had trying to get it from her a few days ago. She asks me why I want to know, and looks as me suspiciously as if maybe I'm secretly looking to steal my sister's identity. I explain to her the the Trust Company is looking for it and I explain to her why.
Mom: Why did they contact you about it?
Me: Because you asked them to.
Mom: I don't remember that, and I don't appreciate them contacting you.
Me: Mom, you asked them to last week. Remember, they were here and you called me and put me on the speaker phone.
Mom: Oh, I do remember. But why do you need her social?
Me: So that she can get the check.
Mom: What check?
Me: The check they're trying to send her.
Mom: All money is supposed to go to me.
I remind her about this one mysterious insurance policy of Dad's that states the children are the beneficiaries. I remind her that she had a meeting just last week about this very thing and how I was patched into the meeting and was asked that I handle this for my sister, my niece and my nephew.
Mom: I don't appreciate them going to you about this. Everyone goes to you, the schools go to you, the Trust Company goes to you. And, frankly, I don't appreciate that you're trying to take over my life.
Me: Mom, you don't take their calls half the time, and you throw away the mail. You've told them to contact me.
Mom: That shouldn't matter.
My niece, whose been sitting quietly beside me during all of this, drops her head into her hands, turns to me and whispers, God, it's just like talking to my Mom. Indeed.
Me: Mom, I'm not going to argue about this. I am not trying to take over your life. What I'm trying to do is take care of something that, whether or not you remember doing so, you did ask me to handle for you. Please, do you have any idea where I can find Marianne's Social Security Number?
Mom: I don't know why the hell you're asking me, pick up the phone and ask her yourself.