Dead Men Tell No Tales

Have you ever envisioned  a book with print on one page, and the page directly across from it blank. No illustration, no picture.  I have, daily.  It represents my life for the last few years. 

My page tells of parents, siblings, family.  Tells of a Trust (Guy and Charlene Nicoll Trust) that had no trust for me from my siblings.

How the dirt thrown on my parents caskets has metaphorically speaking, left a chasm between me and my siblings.  It doesn't need to be back filled with bull crap or a bridge built across only to let the erosion persist.  It needs the blank page written upon.  Words, reason, thoughts.  Truth. 

With the sweet amen said as the graves were blessed and consecrated the trust started to erode.  As we turned to our own for comfort, the plans formed. 

It was decided that I would not be present (I was informed not asked) as my siblings went through my parents things.  The important papers as it was described to me. 

When my dad passed my mom told of a loan between my father and my husband.  Now my mom passes.  The Trust immediately starts on the road of no trust.  The Loan wasn't due for two years.  Yet they apply the loan toward my inheritance. 
We were told that we can't be trusted.  That we have a history of not paying our bills.  That they will just apply the loan toward them buying me out of my parents house.
We tried to explain the loan, it fell on deaf ears.  We got a lawyer, to explain that it was a business loan between my dad and my husband.  One little side note, my dad approached Tom to loan him money.  My parents just sold the old Mesa house and wanted to invest it somewhere that would give the a greater return.  For collateral the Baker Machinery property would be used.  I have no ownership in the property.  I and my mother in law were advised years previous to sign off.  Being the nature of the business someone could get injured or at the worst death. That way we couldn't be held financially accountable.

The executors of the Trust needed to know what we had paid in interest.  There was no record from my parents side because my dad had complete trust in us.  We on the other hand had complete records.  Tom sent them a list of payments and dates.  That wasn't good enough.  We needed to send canceled checks.  So we did.  We also had those ducks in a row.  We are a business for heavens sakes.
Yet they spent time finding checks that my mother wrote to me because for most of this time they lived in an apartment we owned.  No rent, free utilities and free cell phones.  My mother couldn't stand all this free stuff so she paid a small amount each month.  The executors applied those payments toward my inheritance.

All in all the first time I met with their Trust lawyer I was told they wouldn't collect on the loan until we got paid for some property we had for sale.  Yet they were collecting long before that.  They had applied it toward my inheritance.
Tom does have some property for sale.  Believe it or not we had to send proof to the Trust lawyer to prove it.

In 2008 the failed economy hit us hard.  Dad came to us and said not to worry about interest payments until we get back on the road.  He even told mom to not pay those previous talked about checks and that he would apply those toward the interest payments. Once again his idea, and his trust and his love for us shined through. That should be proof he said that because the checks stopped.  Dead men tell no tales.

No the Trust would not believe the words spoken by the living for the dead.  Remember we don't pay our bills.

A day before the loan was due we paid on the loan.  The interest would of been paid also but that will be made when the Lord blesses us further. At least the interest won't keep accumulating. 

The museum (my parents house in Vernon, that is what I call it) stands fully furnished.  With all their belongings that now are my siblings belongings.  I got no chance to pick anything.  No chance to put my name in the hat for the lucky draw of winning something precious to me. Like they say "you can't take it with you".  Nothing truer has been said.

My parents journals and photos have been hauled off also.  For safe keeping from the San Juan Fire.  I was asked by my sister if the house was in jeopardy of the fire.  I was living up in Vernon at the time and told her I would call her if I felt we were.  I didn't have to call.  Not because the Lord blessed us.  But because that night she drove up in darkness and took them home or shall I say from home.

This is one page in the book.  Turn the page and you will see a story of how the Nicoll Brothers Ranch LLC has restricted me.
Funny one cast member is on both pages, but it plays by the same plan.  No trust.  No listening.