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Friday, October 17, 2014

My Brother's judgement and the Poverty Line

I moved into this pavilion in September 1999.  At the time I was horrified.  I am naturally unable to speak and the place is not only very big it is full of international travellers.  I was told from the outset I would not be heard.  The women who run the place have their own mandate in their mind and I would be left to myself.  Chronically so.
I expected this.  I had lived in a group home before and the way I avoided social isolation was to always go out I society.   As much as I could I drank in the Montreal cultural scene. I did this until I literally started dying and then I was told to stop or I would lose everything.  This is a period about fifteen years.
At the time, I also was instrumental as a resident, in starting a very important meal making program.  The sophistication of the meals became so important that finally a social worker from the CLSC wanted to move into our half way house.  This was a very great compliment.
I also never stopped volunteering my time to help social concerns.  I worked in a food bank and with seniors.  In retrospect, although this move is popular with the authorities that handle my case, and they are very important in what they do, I feel this is a fatal mistake.  The only people that care about my life are people who do not place an importance in anything but unpaid social concerns for someone on a social solidarity pension.  Rather than get rewarded I have been placed in the first place that feeds me properly and after a while leaves me unmolested from bodily attacks. 
However I was told, as I said before, that my personal wellbeing will be studiously ignored.  Not only that the right to live and work as I choose and the right to be paid will be taken away.  This has come through with a vengeance.
The last time I started writing letters like this was the time of my father’s death.  He left me very little except promises that I would be well kept care of upon the death of my mothers.  And several pairs of his pajamas and ties.  The pajamas and ties I distributed to the cultural communities I frequented.  I d o not remember all of them but a large amount of ties went to the Montreal Symphony Orchestra. I had chosen them and one of the ties was a yellow silk one, I remember that was near the start of the Nagano era.  I also gave a pair of pajamas to the Centaur theatre.
As I said the trouble is coming to be very grave.  I have been on a solidarity pension my whole life.  I have state that t family that uses the Fabian name is not the original members of my family.  These people, and there are many of them now, have taken everything, including the name they left me with, and have beaten me many times.  So many times have I been beaten and forced to take mind-dimming medication, I did not even have the energy to say anything until now.
Despite the terrible isolation I knew would encounter in a home run by this order, I have been eating steadily and sleeping without being disturbed for years. So I have a tiny computer and I take my pen in hand to write my problem to you.
My father died a few years ago and my mother died with him.  Now there is another woman who has the name and has lived in the house that was the Fabian house.
I have said I am on a solidarity pension.  It is about half the sum of the amount of money that one would get if one was living on the poverty line.   When my father died, he had increased the money so that I could live in my current residence comfortably and with the very basic dignity the distinguished order demands.  Taking this into account, it is very difficult to even have the most basic comforts.  I regret and resent this greatly.
I would like to have several things verified.
I am on a social solidarity pension of $927.00 a month and receive a shelter allowance and a social solidarity subsidy of $80.00 each.  All this covers roughly the total of my room and board.
To even be able to communicate to anyone at all I have this computer on which I am writing.  As I stated I have lived with order for years and I cannot accept their teachings.  For extra food and clothing, any kind of entertainment, and personal grooming I receive money from the people who state they are my family.  The only frequent contact I have with these people is every two weeks with the man who states he is my brother Leslie Fabian.  He refuses to do any kind of socializing. He will not break bread with me at the table.  I meet him sitting at a restaurant. It is an hour journey there and back to my brother’s neighborhood where I must go to get the money.  He refuses to make the transactions above board and place it regularly in the bank.  For this reason the whole affair is done clandestinely. So much so I have often wondered why he does this in the first place. 
I have often been told that as a single woman with no family I should work for my brother’s family as a maid.  Seeing the brutal treatment that I have received from them and their community I see only a future of unpaid, and anonymous bondage, contempt so much so that I am afraid that what little is left of my identity will be stolen.  As a university graduate and a life-long resident of Montreal I would make a great illegal alien.  So again, I take pen in hand because the matter has come to a head.
I have been read my mother’s will (I am refused a copy by the public notary for a reason that I do not know).  It states that I will be entitled from the family estate a pension of $1500 a month for life. This is a solid sum unindexed to inflation and as I write below the poverty line.
My brother has told me that if I accept this fund I will not be able to have a social solidarity cheque.  If I refuse to accept this sum which will be adjusted according to my brother’s conscience then I will not receive any more supporting money from the family estate.  Which means that I will have only the government pension to live on.  Not only that this will be cut drastically when I reach retirement age, very soon.
The will also states that the estate will be divided completely in half except for my parents’ house in the city (and ally snide it).  This will be left to my brother.  The house and all the possessions and my mother’s jewels are worth I believe about $500,000.00.
When I protested about the meagreness of the amount that I would live off of, he said that if I calculate the total sum for thirty years (a lifetime) it will be about $300,000.00 which is a great deal of money.
It is actually much less than my brother is receiving when he gets the house and then there will not only be money but the rest of the estate for him. 
The estate is supposed to be divided equally.  This is what my father said.
So the two questions I have are;
If I remain on welfare in protest, will I not have any money from the estate or the family to be given to me?   Will the scant money they give me now (to live near the poverty line) be taken away?  Will I have to be deprived of much more when I reach retirement?
In other words do I have no choice but to take a meagre sum from a family that does not respect my wishes, that are brutal aggressors and that  do not believe are my family in the first place?


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