Tuesday, November 28, 2006

November 28, 2006

Now I'm really annoyed. Thirteen and a half months after my mother-in-law died, again today I found myself fruitlessly trying to contact Social Security via the net. Why I still try is a mystery, since not once in over a year have I been able to achieve anything even remotely useful. The links don't work, the "help" is not helpful, and I am beginning to think this is part of a vast effort to further frustrate any of us who have the gall to request what is legally owed to us from any governmental entity. I guess it's a ritual of frustration that energizes me for the mornonic conversations I endure after dialing the 800 number. The issue at hand is that the Social Security office has been requesting, and receiving, various documents proving that my mother-in-law existed, that she died, that her son exists, still, that he is her only surviving son, etc. How many copies of the same papers does any agency need? The person with whom I spoke (let's call her X rather than the expletive I would prefer)actually told me that I had to go down to the basement, sort through boxes, and provide Marge's Social Security number to her. When I mentioned that she (theoretically, being with the SS Office) could access this information from the date of death, she declined to do so. What a world! This is so reminiscent of the paper trail my family had to provide the Veteran's Administration regarding my father's veteran's benefits as a former POW of WWII. For six months, our family was quite busy hunting up documents that went all the way back to his discharge in 1945 - most of which we saw again and again in other stacks of paper on desks in the VA offices. Meanwhile, X and I continue our conversation. I am told that the last letter we received, dated 10/2/06, requesting yet again one piece of the four papers requested 2/23/06, was sent in error (are we surprised? these papers had already been sent multiple times, each time seeing the letter with his deceased mother's name an emotional upset). Proudly X announces that as of LAST WEDNESDAY "they" had begun to process the claim for survivor benefits. When I asked whether I could submit a request for a time frame to conclude this mess, X told me she'd be happy to submit such request, but that would in fact result in the pile of papers, including the proposed request, being taken off the desk of whoever was industriously beginnning the paperwork (only 13 1/2 months later!) and the whole giant pile of paperwork would be started over. How very helpful. My comments regarding the trauma other people expereince, seeing the names of their loved ones over and over again, the unnecessary waste of everyone's time triplicating (and more) the very same paperwork endlessly, and anything else I had to say to X (why not get some satisfaction out of this mess? at least I had the chance to rant to a very unresponsive but assumedly conscious person)were met with silence. An hour after I dialed the 800 number the call concluded with X telling me that as of right now, this second, there was (amazingly) nothing else I needed to resubmit, and that eventually we would get a letter telling us how all this has been resolved, and what the amount of the survivor benefits would be. As to the benefits themselves, I assume we will get a check from the Social Security office for something like $2.98 just before Hell freezes over (less likely now with global warming) or after we are dead too. Then the next generation can begin the process all over again.

1 comment:

rabbim said...

This Talmudic story sorta reminds
me of your blog posting, in a twisted sorta way...

I saw an old man planting a carob tree.

I said, old man, why are you planting that carob tree?
You will not live long enough to enjoy its fruit nor bask in its shade!
(kind of chutzpahdik, no?)

"Young fellow," he replied, "Just as I came into this world and enjoyed the fruit of the efforts invested by those long before i was born, so too am I leaving a legacy for those yet to follow, those not yet born."

-rabbi melman