Wouldn't it be fun to be really rich? Don't you think if you were, you'd be protected and never endure physical misery? After all, you'd have enough money to solve any problems. Wouldn't you?
Did you read about the elderly New York woman who was named in court papers, filed in late July by her grandson, as being kept a virtual prisoner in her own apartment.
She wore torn clothing, slept on urine-stained furniture in the TV room because her bedroom was too cold and was fed strained peas and carrots, liver and oatmeal. The New York Daily News first reported the story, which also said the woman's two small dogs were kept away from her and locked in a pantry.
The accuser is the woman's grandson, Philip Marshall. The man charged with treating his mother that way and with helping himself to her money, was her son, Anthony Marshall.
The woman in question is one of the last people you'd expect this could happen to: Brooke Astor, a New York socialite and multimillionaire with an estate worth some $45 million.
Her problem is she's old – 104 years old, and as a result, is vulnerable despite her wealth.
She married into the Astor family, whose name is the epitome of prominence and old money. In 1840, the richest man in this country was John Jacob Astor. The Astor family lived the grand life and were leading socialites for decades.
Brooke Astor's husband, Vincent, died in 1959, but she continued to actively run the Astor Foundation. Millions of dollars were donated to Museums in New York, to Carnegie Hall, the New York Public Library and many other philanthropic activities including many small projects, such as windows for a nursing home. We're told her favorite motto was ''Money is like manure, it should be spread around.''
Little did she know.
When I was growing up, I enjoyed reading the society/fashion magazines, which focused on the wealthy doyennes who graced their pages wearing couture clothing, fabulous jewels and elegant furs while entertaining in their palatial homes. Brooke Astor was one of them. It was a world apart; those people seemed immune to the everyday travails the rest of us endured.
Then, I grew up and learned the truth. It was all make-believe. Oh, they were rich. They had the clothes, jewels, furs and homes, along with the cars, yachts, planes and of course, staff. The ''make-believe'' was that they were ''different.'' They're not.
One look at the society and gossip pages of newspapers, magazines and the Internet today, reveals the often ugly underside of their lives.
The story of Brooke Astor is perhaps one of the saddest and most blatant examples of that ugliness. She has the name, the family, the money, the connections, and the prominence. And none of it helped her, at least until those court papers filed by her grandson.
After hearings, a new conservator was named. Astor was taken to the hospital for treatment and then returned home where, presumably, she's receiving humane care. No doubt the legal battles continue but the details are not tabloid fodder, at least not yet.
What happened to Brooke Astor is not, unfortunately, unusual. When you get old and weak – and yes, vulnerable – you have to depend on family and friends. All too often, they aren't there for you.
Many elderly are parked in convalescent homes – no one visits, care is notoriously below standard and fees bleed family savings. It's the waiting room for death.
Other elderly live alone, in real and emotional poverty, until being found in horrific condition or found dead. Everyone ''tch-tches'' and assumes it only happens to those people, never us.
Don't kid yourself. It can happen to anyone and it doesn't matter how much money you have. In fact, having money means it's more likely to happen. Greed and cruelty are pervasive and too often, the law isn't as much help as one might think.
I experienced a similar horror on my ex-husband's side of the family. There was a relative, a widower who lived alone for a while until a niece went to live with him to help with his care. He was old, in his 90's but in good health. His only child, a son, was a broker who also handled his father's account, churning it and reaping substantial commissions. He lived out of town and rarely visited.
However, I lived nearby; we were friends and I visited often. To my gradual horror, I saw growing neglect and abuse of him. My calls to the son were ignored and talking to the niece did nothing. Finally I inquired of medical people and county and state agencies, as to what I could do. I was told that since I wasn't a blood relative, I had no legal standing. No one would help.
I watched as he was allowed to drive without a license or insurance. I finally ''borrowed'' the car from him to keep it, and him, safe. When I finally returned it, the niece gave it to her son, getting the old man to sign it away. His property began disappearing from the house and then, lo and behold, another will was written (his own lawyer was in on the scam) and a condo purchased for the niece and her son.
The elderly man was getting more infirmed and when I saw one day that he had virtually no circulation in his legs, I demanded the niece arrange for physical therapy. In the end, I had to do it.
I also found a lawyer to help me, help him, the only way I legally could – by getting myself named conservator. The details of how it all came about would fill a book, but let it suffice that even though learned advice said I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of accomplishing that – I did it, thanks to a good lawyer and a fair judge. It also didn't hurt that the people who took advantage of the man were stupid thieves – but I digress.
I didn't tell too many people about what I was going through – it lasted years and was emotionally draining – but what shocked me, was when I did tell someone, they all had their own horror stories of family greed and cruelty. From relatives moving furniture out of homes before the person died to people draining bank accounts, to personal possessions just ''disappearing.''
What's the moral of the story? Plan ahead. I suggest a Living Trust and a tightly written will. Consider carefully whom you name as executor. Have a Power of Attorney for financial matters and a separate Protective Medical Decisions document. Be very, very careful about who is named to make decisions for you and be certain you discuss your wishes with them in advance.
Side note: You can't even trust your doctor. In my experience, the doctor, on his own, ordered food and water for the old man be stopped. He never told or asked anyone. I discovered it, purely by accident. Thank goodness – before the man died.
It's a dangerous world out there and it's most dangerous for the very old or very sick. And isn't that sad.