Life’s hard lessons

Dear Editor

I am 60 years old. I consider myself to be reasonably intelligent although certainly more a candidate for ‘The Chase’ than ‘Mastermind’.

My husband died unexpectedly and intestate in December 2015 throwing me into the world of solicitors, financial institutions, planning, council tax, Movement of Cattle, Eriskay Pony societies and Bulgarian mysteries.

A veritable whirlpool of very steep learning.

A learning that has made me feel like a dinosaur a left behind relic from a time when people mattered and bridging loans existed.

I have no confidence, trust or belief in my solicitors. It has steadfastly been eroded.

I want to move out of the house and downsize there is only a small amount left on the mortgage.

The bank can only help me if I “sign up to a new product” and re-mortgage the house but the minimum they will consider is £25,000 and I don’t need anywhere like that amount and if I do take that option, short term, just to help me get from a-b then I would be fined for early settlement.

Tradespeople that promise to come and don’t or come back and don’t or charge twice as much because they “found an additional problem” or who ‘finish’ the job without actually completing it.

There is only me, my parents live in Manchester where my father is struggling to look after my mother who has dementia, my ‘in-laws’ with the exception of one who maintained contact for a while, have just evaporated.

I am very lucky to have a network of incredibly supportive friends and to have an excellent counsellor through St Andrew’s Hospice.

I used to expect and believe in professionalism, especially from legal and financial organisations, but then again I used to believe in the Tooth Fairy and Father Christmas.

Is there a reason for this indifference or am I just a relic?

Tyrannosaurus Wrecked (name and address withheld)