When Lynda died we began a memorial fund with hopes of raising money to purchase needed items for the Scott Center Child Development Center's playground. That's where Lynda had gone to school from the time she was five until she turned twenty-two. They needed a awning for their playground. We had dreams of funding that project and then moving on to other programs that served children with autism.
We went to the bank the same day that we went to the funeral home to make the final arrangements for her celebration of life service and to the florist to choose the flowers. I remember that day like it is playing in slow motion. No matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the irony that this was the first time I had ever had an occasion to buy flowers for Lynda in all the years that she was my daughter. It was also the only time I could open a bank account in her name. No proms or parties. No checking accounts like we had opened for the boys when they graduated from high school.
We chose the bank because we had banked there when we lived in Oxford. We knew that the bank's president would make the whole process as painless as possible and he did. Within minutes we had the account set up without the normal fees and strings attached since it was being used for a memorial fund. Statements came each month and for a while, I opened them and looked at them. When the amount failed to grow, I stopped opening them and simply put them into the "Lynda Box".
I've never really understood why only the school that Russ and I teach for, NMRC where Lynda lived and a small handful of friends came to pay their respects to Lynda or to send flowers or make a donation to the memorial fund. Who knows why some causes yield huge returns and others do not? I have no answers and I no longer have the questions of why. I have simply learned to accept that it is like so many other things that have occurred in Lynda's life. It is unfair. It is sad. It is the part of the serenity prayer of accepting the things I cannot change.
A few days ago, I absentmindedly opened the bank statement and stared at the $5.00 "dormant account" fee that had been charged to the account. I put the statement in my purse and today asked Russ to call the bank and explain to them that we were not supposed to have any fees like this for the account. I expected it to be a simple clerical error. I expected a simple resolution. I was wrong. As he spoke to the person, he was told that they couldn't discuss it with him because he wasn't listed on the account. He brought the phone to me and I tried to explain to the lady at the bank that this was a memorial fund and the fees had been waived and could she please just look at the account and see if the $5.00 fee had been charged on previous months and if so, put the fees back and well...just fix it, please. I asked her to just talk to the bank president who I learned had retired. Was there someone else that I knew at the bank? My mind went blank so she began to explain the "dormant fee" to me and what it was and why the account was being charged the fee. I felt my heart begin to come up into my throat as I was trying to speak and I asked her what I needed to do to give Russ permission for her to speak to her on my behalf. She didn't seem to hear my words although I was sure I was speaking. She continued to try to explain to me that some fees had been waived but this was the "dormant fee" that I assured her I knew because that was what I told her was charged to the account erroneously when I first spoke to her. I kept trying to ask what was necessary to give Russ permission to speak on my behalf and I realized she and I were on two different planets. I was standing in front of my school after the children had left and was trying to explain to someone on the other end of the phone that this account was a memorial fund for my daughter and it was quite painful to have to discuss it which was why I wanted Russ to talk to her on my behalf. SO I answered three security questions. Where was my first job? My mind could barely recall. And on and on. Finally I handed the phone to Russ and went back inside. What seemed like ages passed before he came back inside and this is what he said.
The woman's only solution to our problem was to: A- The bank would return the seven month's "dormant account fee" money to the account if we agreed to close the account or B- We could keep the account and forfeit the $35 deducted from Lynda's account. When he asked to speak to her supervisor things didn't go well. Someone did return his call but it not to provide any other solution. Russ asked to speak to the new bank president and was told he wasn't in but that Russ had already made one bank employee cry. Oh, my goodness. We are trying to explain to this woman about the fees being charged to our dead daughter's memorial fund and her insensitivity to the nature of how difficult it is to see a fourth of the fund being sucked out for this fee. A fee that we had assumed was being waived when "all fees" were waived upon opening of the account --- which seems to have begun a month or two after the retirement of the bank president.
I am usually pretty sensitive to other people's feelings but this one blew my mind. The bank representative who called us back was concerned about the bank lady's feelings being hurt because Russ asked to speak to her supervisor but she had no concerns at all for the mother of the child whose name was on the memorial checking account. This is the same bank we had had personal accounts and our business accounts for over thirty years but even without this fact, couldn't someone be compassionate about a memorial fund account that bears the name of a family's daughter?
I am reminded of a favorite saying that I have in my classroom. "Remember that each child in your classroom is the center of someone's world". As a teacher, I do pray that that is true for each of my children. For me, Lynda was the center of my world. It's not so much the money because it is not much. It is the insult to injury that this whole problem with the bank brought about. It is the bright light that it forced me to shine on the idea of a memorial fund in the first place. I clung to the hope that we would be able to give back in Lynda's name and help others like her. Now, I guess the prudent thing is to just not do what the bank suggested and let them refund the money and close the account. I just hate to dissolve something I had prayed so hard for to keep a little bit of Lynda's legacy alive.
