All right, I know everyone is stressed. So I have a wild story for you. It has nothing to do with elections, Trump, the coronavirus, or the sorry state of the world and all the hate in it. It has a dead man, a locked door, a mysterious license plate, and a surprise ending.

My stepfather died of lung cancer in May. He declined across a year. My mother has dementia and paranoid delusions. They saved almost nothing; they spent all their money on things. So in 2019, I drove to their house, and over several trips, began collecting info on these things.

Because, along with the house, they would have to be sold after his death. This would be the only source of funds for my mother's care outside Social Security. They'd bought two new Toyota 4Runners, a boat, an ATV, a trailer, and a 34' RV/trailer. They lived outside their means.

Mind you, they bought them over the course of more than a decade, but still. No savings, and all these unnecessary luxuries. It made me crazy and was a terrible headache after his death, because we had to deal with becoming guardians for my mother while selling off all this stuff

Not everything had been paid off yet. Money was still owed on the house, too. NONE of these items were titled in a name under which we could take any action without some kind of legal process. Which mean hiring two lawyers, filing petitions. Coordinating with other relatives.

The house and 4Runners were titled in Ohio. We got those retitled under Ohio law, because she is the surviving spouse, and then as conservators, my brother and I could sign them over to a buyer. But the boat was titled in Michigan, and the ATV and small trailer were titled in WV.

It was disaster. Try getting information from DMVs in 3 states during a pandemic. Try finding sellers when you don't have clear title that you can turn over. But slowly, we made progress on each of the vehicles. EXCEPT for that 34' RV, whose story just became weirder and weirder.

[BRIEF PAUSE.. will return shortly]

I'd gone out to see the Airstream (the RV) in October with my stepfather on the lot where it was parked each winter. He knew the cancer was getting worse, and I worked on cleaning it out and cleaning it up. He'd just replaced a bunch of things on it and put in nice wood floors.

Afterward, I sat down with him at the house, and while my mother yelled at both of us continuously that we WERE NOT ALLOWED TO SELL ANYTHING, he went through what each item should be worth, its special features, and where and when it would best be sold.

He gave me the name of a guy who sometimes did resale on Airstreams, and said that would probably be the way to get the most money for it. He told me the boat would only move at specific times of year, and that the ATV had maybe 400 miles on it, so it should have kept its value.

After he died, I found more notes in his desk. He told us who should get his two big hunting knives, who should get the long guns in the safe. It was pretty clear where everything should go, even beyond what he mentioned in his will. But there was nothing more about the Airstream

I tried to remember the name of the lot where it was parked, but I couldn't. Then I remembered I'd taken a photo of the business card of the place. I looked on my phone and found the photo. It had the combination to the gate to get into the lot, and the address. I called them.

The manager was very sympathetic and offered condolences. She offered to help me with whatever I needed. But when she looked up my stepfather's name, she didn't find anything in their records. Nothing under my mother's name either. They had no spot rented at that lot.

But I'd been there myself less than a year ago! The lot manager & I were flummoxed. I offered to drive out from VA to Ohio to the lot and look for it. Luckily, I had taken pictures of it in October that I could send her, to prove I had been there and to show what it looked like.

Meanwhile, we had also gotten a replacement title--it was in my mother's name. So I had the VIN number, too. The lot manager offered to help me. I went out there weeks ago, and because of coronavirus, we rode in separate cars, up and down the rows, looking for Airstreams.

We found 4. The first was too new and shaped wrong. The second was closer, but when I looked on the side, it wasn't the right number for their model. The third one was tiny. But in the back row--there it was. The right length, the right model, and in the row I'd remembered.

It looked a little worse for wear. Toledo winters are pretty rough. One taillight had fallen out of its casing. I was bummed it had had a hard winter, because I wanted top dollar for it & had hired an estate agent to move it, & she already had someone who was interested in it.

I didn't know what an Airstream key looked like, so I'd brought every key in the house. The lot manager said if I could open it, I could claim it. It turned out a deadbolt had been added, so two keys were involved. I tried every fucking key over and over. Nothing fit either lock.

The lot manager was very kind, but said, I can't give you possession if you don't have the keys. Wait! I said. I have a photo of the title. It'll have a VIN. We can match the VIN. We searched the outside of the vehicle top to bottom, front to back, and couldn't find any VIN.

What about the plate, she says? So I go to take a photo of the plate. It's a Michigan plate, but he had titled the Airstream in Ohio. He was prone to cutting corners, not paying taxes, not switching residences if it helped him taxwise not to. This had left us other messes.

I told the lot manager I'd look into it. I finished the other things I had to do in Ohio & went home. I looked up when he had titled the Airstream in Ohio--it was the month he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I realized he'd gotten sick & retitled it but never put the new plate on

So I have a buyer who *wants* to give me cash for the Airstream, but I can't establish ownership. No one at the Michigan DMV answers the phone, you just get a phone tree. I email them and give them the VIN and ask if it's attached to the Michigan plate. Weeks later, no answer.

I ask the lot owner if I can bring in a locksmith. Not unless we can match the VIN, she says. Meanwhile, she calls the guy who's supposed to own the vehicle parked in that spot, but he says it isn't his. Someone parked in his spot a long time ago and he just took another spot.

She starts trying to figure out what happened. It becomes apparently quickly that tons of people in the lot are now parked in the wrong spaces. She has no idea who is where. I am a harbinger of horror for her. But meanwhile, she finds an old, dead account in my stepfather's name.

He had called them in March, to give advance notice on closing out his rental of the space. The remaining time had expired long after his death, and ended the very week I showed up to ask her about the Airstream.

I realized he must've intended to move it before he died but never did. (It's a project to take it off the block & hook it up, let alone when you're dying of cancer.) But I still had no way to claim it. The police said I would 100% have to go through the motor vehicle department.

And still, zilch from the motor vehicle department. "I am in despair over all this," I wrote to the lot manager on July 30. The estate sale would begin August 6. I had no idea what to do. This was just one of a ginormous mountain of things I had to manage while caring for my mom.