Family Members Should Never Lend Money to Each Other

“Neither a borrower nor a lender 
be. For oft loan loses both itself and friend.” - Shakespeare's Hamlet

Recently, I've had a serious writer's block. But something happened the other day that has shaken me up and I want to write about it. Today's post is an amazing story in how it displays just how stubborn and stupid people can be and, on top of that, it is a true story. 

Those are the easiest to write for me. You just can't make this stuff up. 

This story is about one of the oldest reasons people destroy their families and lose dear old friends: Money. Specifically, lending money or "borrowing" money from friends or family.

It's one of the oldest stories in the book: a family member borrows money from a sibling and, whether the money deal goes good or bad, the mere fact that there was a money exchange destroys the family because, win or lose, succeed or fail, someone feels that they were cheated in the deal.

This is what happened to my family. 

My oldest brother borrowed money ($10,000 in the early nineties) from my youngest brother to invest in some sort of new business that the older brother was starting up. 

They are both idiots; one for asking a sibling for money, the other for giving it.

The business went bad, if you ask my older brother. If you ask my younger brother, it went bad too, yet my older brother somehow wound up with a multi-million dollar court settlement. 

As I understand it from the both of them, initially, the business went bankrupt. My older brother, claims that he lost all his money when the company went belly-up. So bad were the loses that he had to sue another company for copyright infringement in court. He won, hence the multi-million dollars.

It is a complicated issue. Who won? Who Lost? Did the company go bankrupt solely because of the copyright infringement or did it go bankrupt due to incompetent management? (Give you one guess which reason I think it was...) Why didn't the younger brother share in the settlement? Why didn't the younger brother even get any of his money back?

I don't know. I wasn't a part of this and didn't want to become involved.

I became aware of this transaction a full year after it had already blown up in everyones face. I was living in Japan and had no idea that this deal had even occurred. One day, my father asked that I intervene and mediate in this case as it had turned into a full-fledged war. Upon discussing mediation with both brothers, they agreed - promised - that they would abide by whatever I decided that was fair to resolve this issue.

I wanted nothing to do with it, but my father was getting old and in poor health so, I reluctantly agreed to try to solve this issue. It wouldn't be good if this situation destroyed the family and my father passed away while this still boiled.

Now, before I go on an important point is that, at this time, there had been no court case and my older brother had not yet been awarded any settlement. This is an important point to remember. Because, conveniently for my older brother, he will claim that the court case had nothing to do with the business. The younger brother claims it does.

I have a very holistic view of these things and don't like the cherry-picking idea as it seems to lend itself to selective morality in far too many cases. Dear reader can decide for themselves.

I asked that both brothers provide me with documentation about this business deal. The interchangeable words I noticed in these mails were "loan" and "investment." Soon, I received an avalanche of emails from both brothers concerning items about "who said this" or "you said that."

It was too much of a clusterf*ck to deal with, by that point. I didn't know what to do. It weighed heavily on my mind. Who was right and who was wrong? I didn't know.

One night, I went to my favorite drinking place and there were two Buddhist priests there who I sometimes played Chinese Checkers with. We had a few drinks and I started telling them about my troubles with my family. 

These guys have always had the most calm and reasoned advice. They are great. After listening to me for a while, one said,

"I see. This is a difficult question to answer as to who is wrong and who is right. But I will say that, in spite of that, it is an ancient story that has gone on, over and over, throughout the history of mankind: A family is destroyed by money. Don't you, in the west, say, 'Never lend money to family or friends'?"

"Yeah." I replied. 

He continued, "I think we can agree on is this; there are stories about families being destroyed by money and these stories are at least 5 millennia old. I think it is too difficult to try to place blame here. But one thing we can agree on is that this situation is like a cancer eating away at your family. I suggest that it is best not to place blame, but to put things back the way they were."

A light went off in my head! I thought that was genius!

I went home and the next day I triumphantly wrote to my brothers that I had decided what the best course of action was: To put everything back. 

I told my older brother to apologize (because family should never borrow money from family) and to give back the $10,000. I told my younger brother to apologize and accept the $10,000 and never complain about it again.

My younger brother reluctantly agreed (after I berated him for a money transaction with a family member). My older brother reneged on his promise and said he would never pay back the money nor would he apologize. He claimed that he needn't apologize because the younger brother was trying to make money too. I countered that the apology wasn't for that. I said the apology was for the entire situation and causing so much trouble for the entire family. 

Hell, I had nothing to do with this crap and I was sorry it happened.

L'Enfant Terrible

My older brother was adamant. He said that he would never apologize. He said, "I haven't done anything wrong, so I'm not going to apologize." Once again I said, "It's not for doing anything wrong, it's not accepting any guilt. It is apologizing for the entire mess."

He would have none of it.

That just shows how obstinate my older brother is. Imagine, you witness some old lady walking across the street. She is hit and killed by a car driven by someone else. You see her family later and they ask you what happened. Isn't it normal for most people to say, "I'm so sorry!" Of course it is. "I'm sorry" isn't an admission of guilt. It is showing some empathy for people.

On a side note, I think my older brother has a problem with serious denial and telling the truth. If this deal were such a 'great deal' like he claimed, when he first asked my younger brother for money, then why didn't he invite me to join? - I had much more money than either of my brothers at that time....

But I digress....

I realized then that my older brother didn't have the money and I suspected that this excuse of not apologizing was actually a cover for not having the money. No problem. I then told him, "Look to make peace in the family and to try to fix things for our nearly 80-years-old dad, I will secretly give you the $10,000 and you give it to our younger brother. You don't have to pay me back. Then you say, "Sorry for the entire mess" (not admitting you did anything wrong) and hug and make up for the problems.

"If anything, do it for our dad." I added

But my older brother wouldn't do it. He refused. Saying sorry was a mountain too high to climb for this person. I was appalled.  My patience with this little child was nearing an end. 

By this time, this problem had grown to crisis proportions. My younger brother had fought over and over with both my dad and older brother about this. Though my younger brother I have always enjoyed a good relationship, he was no longer speaking to either of them. My younger brother was angry that, even though he felt that he was 100% in the right, my father always took sides of my older brother.

I did admonish my father about it. But, bless his heart, my dad wasn't the kind of guy who would put his foot down. Had my mother still been alive, my older brother would have never been able to get away with this.

I took no sides. I just tried to make it right. (If my mom had been alive, I know what she would have said. I'd have taken her side).

I was asked to mediate. I did. I offered the $10,000 (Free. Not a loan. A gift) and asked that my older brother give the money to the younger brother and apologize. I told my younger brother that, if he gets the $10,000, to accept and to apologize too. 

My younger brother accepted the terms, my older brother refused. Time went by and, after continued fights with my older brother and father that just kept making things worse, my younger brother's heart grew harder and colder still.

Finally, I gave my older brother an ultimatum. I told him that,

"This families problems are your making. Everyone knows that you don't borrow money from family and friends, yet you did. Then, when this problem became great, you came and asked for my mediation, I didn't want to get involved, but you asked. I did it for the family. You said you'd follow my decision. But you don't.... You have no honor.

Our father is sick and would like to see peace in the family, but, in your narcissistic obstinacy, you refuse. It's been nearly ten years, you asked for my help, you lied and refused. 

This borrowing money from family and friends is an old story and we all know what will happen. Father will die someday and you will still be the one responsible for this mess.

Now, until the day you fix this problem, I have no way to force you into doing what is right. So, until you do apologize to your younger brother and fix this mess you created, I will never speak to you again." 

That was at least 15 years ago.

My father died on Saturday night Sept. 25, 2011.

My brothers still haven't spoken to each other in about 20 years.

I have no intention of ever speaking to my older brother until he does what he said he would do. I am astounded that a guy who gets a multi-million dollar settlement cannot fix a $10,000 problem with his brother. I seriously think this person has some serious issues.

What do you think?

(This article originally appeared in 2011 - dates have been altered for today)

True Prosperity: Grandfather dies. Father dies. Son dies. Grandson dies.

An ancient Zen Buddhist story goes like this: 

A very wealthy family in China bought a large farm and built a beautiful palace upon it. They wished for good luck, health, and fortune, so they decided to ask a famous Zen priest to write a scroll for them to hang in their den. The priest accepted the job and went back to his shrine to pray for enlightenment. 

 After a few days, the priest returned with the finished scroll and the entire family gathered around in great anticipation to see the words that the priest wrote for them. The priest said a short prayer and opened the scroll and hung it on the wall. 

The scroll said: 

Grandfather dies. 

Father dies. 

Son dies. 

Grandson dies. 

The entire family was furious at the priest. They shouted and demanded that he go back to the shrine and rewrite the scroll for them. 

The priest sighed and said: "I will rewrite the order of names on the scroll in anyway you wish. But I think there can be no other sequence. If all die in this order, I think that is true prosperity."

My own mother died in a freak car accident in 1994. Of course, I was crushed. I was in Japan and she was in America. 

After the car accident, she was taken by ambulance to the hospital. I understand that she floated in and out of consciousness before she died. Since I was so far away, I had no way of seeing her, holding her hand, and saying: "I love you mom. Thank you for everything." But at least I can be thankful that my father was there to do so when she went away. Many people who die are not fortunate enough to have a loved one with them, to hold their hand, to whisper in their ear: "I love you. We all love you.... Please rest. You may go now." And with words like these, my mother "let go" and passed away. I will always regret that I couldn't be there with my mother in her time of need. I thank God that my father could be. 

There are too many people in this world who die alone. Could there be a more woeful way to die, than when loved ones cannot be there by your side to say their last, "Good-bye"? 

After my mother died, though, I was angry. I was angry at the world and I was angry at God. For months after my mother's death I had recurring nightmares and the most bizarre dreams. Many of the dreams involved times when I was a boy. I would be playing in a playground and I would see my mother on the other side of a fence. I would cry out, "Mom! You're back!" And I would begin to sob uncontrollably. My mother would grow angry at me and she'd start to leave. I'd cry out again, "Mom! Come back!" As she walked away, she would turn around, look at me, and always say the same thing: "I cannot come to visit you, if you are going to cry every time I see you." And with that, she'd disappear into a field of tall grass. 

I would always promise not to cry the next time. But I couldn't keep my promise. I think I saw this same dream just about every night for at least six months. 

Then one night, I had the most bizarre dream of all. My mother, as usual, walked away because I was crying, I was on my knees. I had my head in hands to try to hold back the tears. And then suddenly, I found myself in a huge chamber. It was like a colossal courtroom. I looked up and there was an old man sitting in a chair, looking quite frustrated and irate at me. He was massive in size. He was huge, at least 40 or 50 feet high and he was sitting down! He was brushing his beard and looking at me as if he was considering what to do. 

I knew exactly who he was, yet I was not afraid of him; I was furious. 

I shouted: "It's not fair! It's not fair that my mother died in an accident. My mother was still young and healthy. She should still be alive you bastard!" The old man just stared at me. I continued to shout at him. And I began to cry. 

Then he calmly said: "So you think it is unfair that your mother has died?" 

"Of course it's unfair!" 

The old man sighed and said, "Very well then, I shall allow you to be reborn and I will give you a different mother, and that mother will still be alive today. Would you find this acceptable?" 

"A different mother!?" I said. "No... No, thank you." 

I suddenly awoke from my dream. My pillow was wet with tears. I pondered this strange dream for many weeks after that. Then it dawned on me: Instead of being angry that my mother died in an accident. I should be thankful for all of the wonderful times we spent together, all the hugs and bedtime stories. All the laughs and the great dinners. All the special times that my mother made me feel special, and all the other times she cheered me up when others did not. I should thank God for all the wonderful memories I received from being the son of this loving woman. She was always there for me when I needed her. And now, whenever I see her in my dreams, I do not cry. In fact the dream I often have with her now is one where I am on her side of the fence and we are sitting in the field and having a picnic and smiling together. 

My mother and father around 1952

I haven't seen my mother in a while, but I look forward to the next time I do. I told this story to a priest who has become my friend. He asked me to show him a photograph of my mother. I did. He said: "Your mother was a very beautiful woman. Always keep this image of her in your heart. You are most fortunate that it is you, and not her, who has but memories and a snapshot." 

"How profound!" I thought. And I have always kept his words of wisdom in my heart. I share these words with my friends whose parents have passed away. 

....And the children can hold photos of their parents too...True treasures of life!

I wouldn't trade those photos for anything in the world. Would you? 

------------------

Thanks once again to Anthony Gregory for advice and the editing of this article. This article originally ran on Lew Rockwell on Sept 23, 2004

I am rerunning this article for my dear friends Red and Sue

What is True Prosperity?

There is an ancient Chinese Buddhist Zen story about prosperity.


It goes something like this:


There was a very wealthy land-owning family in a village and one day they decided to build a huge family home on their land. This house was to be an almost palace in its grandeur for the entire area. There was no expense too great for this home as they wanted it to be a symbol of their family and they wanted it to stand for many years.


Once this great home was nearing completion, the grandfather and the sons called a famous priest to write a scroll blessing the family, the home and their future prosperity.


The priest accepted the job and went back to the temple to meditate.


After a short time he returned to the house and opened the scroll and proudly held it up on the wall.


The scroll said,


"Grandfather dies,


father dies,


son dies,


grandson dies."


The family were furious. They were enraged and began insulting the priest, threatening him and demanding that he take the scroll back and change what was written on it.


The priest sighed and, as he was rolling up the scroll, he looked and said to them,


"I am sorry that you are unhappy with my work. How do you wish me to change the order on the scroll?..."


The family were dumbstruck. They didn't know what to say. They didn't know how the order could be changed.


The priest heaved a sigh once again and unrolled the scroll and hung it on the wall.


He said,

"'Grandfather dies,

father dies,

son dies,

grandson dies.'...


That is true prosperity.

I Wish I Could Remain a Child Forever

I suppose it always happens like this for everyone. My father died last night. 


Last night, when I came home from work, I got a message that said, 


"Mike, 

I am so sorry to tell you this, your father passed away last night. I don't know the details, I am waiting for your brother to get home. Now he is at peace. 

Please call if you need to talk."

I don't need to talk about it. Just write, I suppose. 

When I heard the news, I wasn't shocked, but thought, "Gee, I just talked to him the other day and he seemed fine."

Well, maybe he wasn't fine but he sounded better than he did several weeks ago.

Before he died he told me that the only three things that ever mattered to him were the US marines, my mom and us three brothers.

My mom died about 16 years ago.

Hopefully, his spirit can reside with my mom's now. I said a prayer for him.

I have missed my mom all this time. I'll miss my dad. 

From today, now, I must take the position in my immediate family that my mom and my dad took. I must try to care for the children and make sure they are happy.

I used to be "the children" now I am the "grandfather."

I don't want to do the grandfather role. 

I wish I could remain a child forever. But I can't.


Today? Hug your parents if you still can and hug your kids... 


It seems like just yesterday that it was the 1960's and my parents had a house and a car. My mom was young and beautiful and she cooked, cleaned and took care of our school stuff... 


Dad was working, like all dads do... He also had black hair... He wrestled with us kids, took us to baseball games and he cooked barbecue... Like all dads do... 


One day, tomorrow is tomorrow and in the far-flung future... Then, one day, tomorrow is coming soon.... Then, out of the blue, tomorrow is here.


Soon, way too soon, tomorrow will be yesterday... Live it while you can!


NOTE: This is pretty weird, and I just realized it, but this is my 1000th posting on this blog. I was planning to write something profound for my 1000th... But all I got was this news that made me write this post about death... Weird, no?


Once again, in my life, with how these "coincidences" keep happening, I just have to throw my arms in the air and shrug my shoulders and say to the world, "Don't tell me that there's no God!"... (And I'm not even a Christian!)