Friday I received a FedEx envelope from JP Morgan Chase Bank that contained one printed check payable to The Estate of Maggie Mae Weaver for the full amount of her IOLTA account. Done. I will do my best to never do business with Chase Bank again.
To summarize my issues with how this was resolved:
- Chase admitted, without apology, that they knew the document they were demanding I produce, a letter of instruction from the Bar Association, did not exist
- Chase admitted, indirectly, that the supposed lawyers who were issuing this silly demand that was making my life difficult weren’t actually the “real lawyers” (Their words… “real lawyers”)
- Chase directly admitted, again without apology, that the only reason they were working with me to solve this little issue was because of the media attention (Thank you again, Dawn!) I specifically asked what would have happened to the account had I not to gone to the media and he said “we’d just keep the account.” I asked “forever?” He said, “Yes, forever.”
- No real, tangible apology was ever made for accusing me of conspiring to commit fraud. But “policies have been changed” I was told. Yeah, well, fingers have been given.
- Chase’s representative said that what I have experienced is an extremely rare situation and that he has never seen nor heard of this ever occurring. Uh huh. Regardless of the apparent rarity, I insisted that this issue be fixed so that no one else in my situation goes through this again. He claimed that “policies have been changed.”
But it’s done. Finally.
Monday I went to University Federal Credit Union where Maggie had a small savings account. After waiting for a good thirty minutes to get to an associate, I began my well-rehearsed story. The young gentleman said “Oh, my. We’ll get this taken care of.” I showed him my two documents, the death certificate (I still hate typing that), and my Letter of Administration, to which he responded “Do you want cash or check?” Within three minutes I was sitting in Maggie’s cool car with a check for the balance made out to The Estate of Maggie Mae Weaver. Three minutes. Take a lesson, Chase Bank.
This weekend I went on a tear. I’m not sure why but it was cleaning time. I folded clothes that had probably sat for, well, nearly 408 days. I vacuumed. I killed spiders. I washed clothes. The hardest thing I did was that I threw away our made-for-us comforter, the one that has been with us since nearly the day we moved into this house. She and I have spent many, many days and nights on or under that comforter. It’s kept us warm through our entire marriage. It’s hard to picture her in our bed without it snuggled around her. But having a new puppy took its toll on the poor cloth and now it was shredded in places and de-stuffed in others. It was just a wreck and while I recognized that its days were done, it had sat in my bedroom floor as a familiar crumple of cloth now for a long time, maybe 408 days. Well Sunday, sitting the floor by the bed, I slowly and carefully cut out one salvageable piece. When I was done I gave the big bundle of memories one last snuggle, soaked it good with tears and tossed it into the trash.
Like I said, I was on a tear. Why? Who knows? My psychiatrist thinks that the timing of the cleaning frenzy and the arrival of the check from Chase ain’t no coincidence; that I’m living in a world of finalizing and putting things to rest while taking strong steps to rebuild. <sarcasm>Bright guy. </sarcasm>
But he’s right, though. I was thinking Monday that I feel more stable, more grounded than I’ve felt in a long, long, LONG while. I’m more comfortable and confident, too. Obviously, those are all very good things. I suppose that to re-build something that’s worth building, you need a solid foundation, one built on confidence and optimism. I guess this weekend I was re-enforcing the foundation and filling in any cracks I might find. Some days, though, I can be seen hammer in hand, building. Building what, you ask? Oh, who knows. But it’ll be great!