I wish this wasn’t true. But it is. Every word. And this type of crap is the 538th reason why I retired from the practice of law. (The first reason shall always be: Because all that reading harmed my eyesight.)

To: Family Members

From: The Attorney

Re: Condo 16, Rue Nameless, San Juan

___

Your father’s condo in Puerto Rico (PR) was finally sold on Tuesday, April 28, 2022.

Enclosed you will find your check for your portion of the proceeds and a schedule detailing the shares.

I apologize for this maddening delay and all the documents, but PR does things differently than the US. (And never expediently.) I appreciate your cooperation and effort to this point. Victor and Cheryl deserve special thanks as but for their investment, this process would have resulted in a foreclosure and loss of the asset.

Understand that the perception of time in the vacation land of Puerto Rico differs vastly from our continental United States east coast New York minute version. A minute to us is a week and a half to them. I don’t want my coffee in an hour. I want it now. In fact, have it made and waiting for me when I arrive at the counter. No, I don’t have time to smile at you. I certainly don’t have time to chat. Do you not see it’s half-past three and I have six more meetings before I take lunch? And while vacationing in such a world is perfect for the soul, with its slower pace of life, enjoyment of the moment, mindfulness, breathing in the sea air, transacting business there is torture.

You know when you break down on the highway during rush hour and you’re waiting for a tow? Every minute is three weeks? Or, the collection agency letter says you have until Tuesday and your paycheck refuses to clear even though the check is drawn from the same bank where you deposited it? Funds not available. Tick, tick.

Any student of our public school system experiences that thunderous ticking clock as he or she watches the second hand barely move during last period. Tick, tick.

Water takes ten minutes to boil on my stove. I am sure even if I used the same pot, same stove, water would take two hours to boil on that island. The laws of physics change there.

So, we were using a different clock than they were.

Nevermind the laws there are also on the same time-space continuum, still having rules and procedures popular in the 1800s. Although your father’s Last Will was quite clear about how the property was to pass to the family, PR denied that directive as not in line with their traditions. It does not matter what the property owner wanted — the state knows best.

We also had to deal with a condition I call life.

Just for some insight, the buyer’s first attorney disappeared. With the files. It took months to find her and get the documents we needed. Calls, letters, contacting the San Juan bar association, contacting the consulate, contacting United States representatives and senators. We eventually found the attorney. She was vacationing. For six months. Was very insulted to have the case taken from her after she worked on it for eighteen months. She had opened the file. You know, set it all up. Labeled it. No, she had not filed anything yet. She was getting to it.

We dealt with her paralegal, who was also on vacation. But he did deliver the records as soon as he returned to the office.

During this time, the bank began foreclosure proceedings. I am not sure you were aware of that process.

How did it happen? you ask. Well, that’s some story which you have a right to hear.

So, when your mother, Francis, passed, God rest her soul, your father, Eugene, never filed any paperwork or probated her estate to put the condo in his name. Honestly, in the continental United States he would not need to do so. But in PR, it’s important. He figured, he had a buyer and he would just sell it. That was in 2014. All was well, he thought. How was he to know when he passed, the administrative burden would quadruple?

Then, your brother, Tom, was in charge as the appointed Executor for your father. To his credit, Tom did connect with the buyer and began to discuss the sales price. He also discovered he would need to probate your mother’s and your father’s estates. But that’s as far as he got before he fell during his frisbee golf game and, for reasons yet to be understood, never awoke from his coma.

We also can’t avoid mentioning that your brother also did not have the time or inclination to prepare his own estate. Or power of attorney. Or living will. So, when he suffered his tragic accident, your sister-in-law, the dutiful Cheryl, had no legal right to control her own bank accounts never mind your father’s condo in the land of turtles and sea breezes known as PR.

We began with obtaining a guardianship so Cheryl could pay her electric bill without the third degree about who she was and why she wanted to see her husband’s electric account. As you know, as soon as she obtained that guardianship, your brother Tom passed from this life.

After a heartbreaking funeral, Cheryl sought to be appointed Administrator of his estate. Since she was the guardian and Tom was dead, she returned to her inability to pay the electric bill status. As Administrator, she could once-again change the cable television line up and assert ownership over her own house.

But, wait. There’s more. Because with Tom gone, no one had control over your father’s estate. Or your mother’s. Or the property in PR. Or contact information for the buyer who we assumed had forgotten about the purchase.

The bank in PR, however, did not forget about the property. Or the mortgage months in arrears. Cheryl did try to pay the mortgage numerous times, but the bank would not accept payment from a stranger.

The condo association and tax authority also would not accept payments. We received several letters — all in Spanish — demanding payment and threatening tax sale, liens… Good thing my paralegal speaks fluent Spanish. I could only decipher a few words with my limited knowledge of Italian and Latin.

But all is well. In similar time to a lunch in San Juan, we had Cheryl appointed as Administrator over all three estates, translated letters, and caught up on payments to all the agencies and banks and politicians.

But wait. I’m forgetting Maria.

Not the person. The hurricane.

I would include the photos of the damage suffered to the condo during those three days in 2017, but the pain you would suffer would rival that experienced at Tom’s funeral.

We hired a real estate agent, briefly. Her vacations and three-day call back time were far too frustrating. As was her proclivity to remain at the property for long weekends and offer it for what she represented as a more-than-fair price to her boyfriend.

After we hunted her down to obtain return of the key, we finally located the buyer. Who hired the first lawyer. Who disappeared.

But we had time during those six months because Cheryl was busy contacting the cable company insisting she was, in fact, the Administrator, while contemporaneously handling her own brother’s estate when he died out of no where and blindly appointed her his Executrix.

She is a trooper, I must say.

In 2018, the buyer hired a second attorney and we were finally able to negotiate a deal. Most of you know, the buyer agreed to take over the carrying costs. (This included the mortgage, condo fees, taxes, gifts to local politicians — and extensive repairs involving mold remediation and installation of windows. The boards were not allowing anyone to enjoy the view.). She also handled paying the attorney upfront so all three estates (Eugene’s, Francis’, and Tom’s) could be probated and cleared in PR. The property could not be sold with clear title until that process was completed.

We were happily rolling along with a pack of snails for two years. Until March 2020.

And the government shut down. Because Covid. Everything stopped on that end. Frustrated, the buyer continued to pay all the carrying costs. We were confident only a few steps remained to complete the process. The second attorney assured us we were in a good position.

In early 2021, when the government offices reopened in PR, the second attorney proceeded to complete the probate steps. Just a few more steps… I know you were surprised when you each needed to sign three rounds of documents — but, remember, each estate required it’s own probate process. And each time you signed, you had to have your signature notarized. And then I had to obtain Exemplifications from the Clerk’s office from state or locality you live in to affirm the notary you used is actually a licensed notary. And that was exciting, let me say. Especially since you live in six different states.

The Clerk and in Utah and I have become close enough to exchange holiday cards.

With flourish, I sent the letter notifying you the process but for two steps was complete. But then (I kid you not), the second attorney…died. Yes, died. From The Big C. The Cancer. (He was wonderful and helpful…it was a loss on so many levels.) His cause of death will be reported as Covid on the death certificate that is allegedly almost ready. Eight months after his death.

So, the buyer hired a third attorney — who had not handled a matter like this (internationally) and I have been constantly arguing that he does not need things he thinks he needs…but we finally sorted it out. He did not need to know all the family member’s social security numbers, phone numbers, and checking account information. Nor did he need your fingerprints. Or your bank account passwords. Often, I find attorneys who do not practice real estate or tax law get confused over these trifles.

And we arrive at today.

From the sale, the estate had to pay the attorney to complete the three estates. After refunding the buyer for the carrying costs for the last few years, the estate had to pay the remaining mortgage balance and legal costs. We also had to pay a capital gains tax to PR — and Victor and Cheryl were refunded their almost $50,000 for payment of the carrying costs of the property until the buyer took over.

I do hope you enjoy your $16.76. I suggest a vacation.

I know I need one.

And I’m thinking PR is just the place.