The logic of the presumption is pretty clear. One can revoke one’s will by committing a “revocatory act” upon it, according to a different section of Arizona’s probate code. So if tearing up, or burning, your will is sufficient to revoke it, well, if it has gone missing the system is simply going to presume that that’s what you did.

Of course people lose their original wills all the time. Sometimes surviving relatives or friends know what became of the original. Sometimes it doesn’t make very much difference (if, for instance, the will simply leaves everything to family members in the same proportions they would receive if there had not been a will at all — or if there are no assets in the decedent’s name, everything having been transferred into a living trust, or placed in joint tenancy, or spent). Sometimes everyone can agree that the loss was accidental, and that a copy should be admitted to probate. Sometimes none of those things are true.

Take the case of Warren Alexander (not his real name). When he died, at age 94, his original will could not be found. What could be found was a copy of the will, a copy of three codicils he had signed over the years, and the original of his fourth codicil. The fourth codicil contained some changed language and, as is usually the case when lawyers draft codicils, added a line at the end that said he was otherwise republishing (readopting might be a more familiar term) his original will.

What does that mean? Does it depend on the sequence of events? Assuming that Warren actually destroyed his original will and intended to revoke it, would it make any difference whether that was before or after he signed the fourth codicil?

The Arizona probate court hearing the case decided that the codicil was valid (the original had been found, after all, and it was properly executed). Because it contained language incorporating at least some of the provisions of the original will, those provisions were still valid as well. The fourth codicil was admitted to probate.

Family members would inherit Warren’s estate if there had not been a valid will at all. One of them appealed the probate court’s ruling, but the Arizona Court of Appeals agreed with the probate judge’s decision. According to the appellate judges, the probate judge had not admitted a missing will to probate — he had admitted a codicil that incorporated some or most of the terms of that missing will. In fact, observed the Court of Appeals, the codicil really was a will; although we think of codicils as amending wills, they are themselves testamentary instruments with all the power and effect of a will. Estate of Andreson, May 4, 2012.

What does Warren’s probate tell the rest of us about what we should do? A few suggestions come to mind:

1. Keep track of original documents. Some of them are not themselves important (though the rules may vary from state to state). The deed to your house, for instance — in Arizona, it is not important to keep that original, provided that it has been recorded. Your living trust is generally still valid even if the original can’t be found. But it would be good to keep all the original documents in one place.
2. If you really do want to revoke your will, do it by signing a new will rather than tearing up your old one. And for goodness’ sake, talk to a professional. The small cost of involving a lawyer will be saved many times over by your heirs and devisees.
3. Periodically review your documents, and go looking for originals. If you can’t find them, ask your lawyer to redo them and sign new originals.
4. Rather than amending a will four times you probably want to consider just redoing the whole thing. That reduces the number of documents you have to keep track of, it reduces the likelihood of inadvertent errors, and it simplifies your estate planning. It also probably costs no more than successive codicils (lawyers don’t usually charge by the word, despite the jokes we have all heard).

For John and Martha Lindford (not their real names), the question came up during their divorce proceedings. Martha wanted to make sure that the couple’s two children, John, Jr. and Paula, would receive at least a share of John’s estate when he died. When the couple negotiated a property division as part of the divorce, it included a provision that required each of them to “execute a Will leaving fifty percent (50%) of their respective estates in equal shares to the children and twenty-five percent (25%) to each other.”

Eleven years after the divorce was final they both agreed that it was time to modify their first arrangement. John and Martha both signed an amendment that eliminated the requirement that any share of each estate be left to the other, and instead provided that 75% of each ex-spouse’s estate would go to the two children. Six months after that modification, John remarried.

Five years after the second marriage John was diagnosed with cancer, and he began to seriously plan his estate. He amended signed a new will and modified his existing living trust; the new documents specifically left several business entities to his new wife, and provided that she would also receive an additional amount to bring her share of his estate up to 25% if it did not already amount to that much.

In the months after his cancer diagnosis, John also transferred several assets — the family home, several bank accounts and one of the businesses — to his second wife outright. When he died eighteen months after diagnosis, the effect had been to leave his second wife substantially more than one-quarter of his entire estate — although she had gotten a large part of that share by lifetime gifts, not in his will or the trust.

John, Jr., and Paula and first wife Martha filed a claim against John’s estate. They argued that the effect of his gifts and the terms of his will and trust violated the marital property agreement as it had been amended. His second wife acknowledged that she had gotten more than one-quarter of John’s assets, but argued that the agreement only required him to have a will leaving 75% to his children — and that lifetime transfers were not prohibited by the agreement.

After a two-day trial, an Arizona probate judge ruled that John’s actions violated the property settlement agreement with his first wife. The second wife was ordered to return all the assets she had received from John, so that a new division could be made and her share could be capped at 25%. She appealed the ruling.

The Arizona Court of Appeals agreed with the probate judge, and upheld his ruling. The appellate judges calculated that John had given about $2.5 million — amounting to more than one-third of his entire estate — to his second wife, and that he had done so in an attempt to defeat the agreement he had signed with his first wife. Estate of Lockett, April 26, 2012.

Should John’s and Martha’s original agreement, signed in the course of a divorce nearly two decades before John’s eventual death, effectively tie John’s hands indefinitely, and despite his later marriage, growth of his estate and changes in his family relationships? That question is larger than the legal question posed by his probate case. For good or ill, John and Martha had signed an agreement that compelled them each to leave three-quarters of their respective estates to their two children. That agreement might have turned out to have been unwise or constraining, but it was their agreement.

What formalities are required for such an agreement to be effective, and to bind the parties? Arizona law (and other states may have different provisions, so be careful about generalizing from Arizona’s example) requires a contract to make a will — or not to modify or revoke a will — to meet only very basic formal requirements. Paradoxically, it would seem that a contract which does not satisfy basic will formalities (e.g.: unwitnessed and not in the decedent’s handwriting) might qualify as an enforceable contract, thereby effectively creating a will.

What landmines and roadblocks might people considering such a contract (e.g.: the lawyers representing a couple in a divorce proceeding) reflect upon before signing? Well, the opinion in John’s probate case turned, among other things, on a letter he wrote before the agreement was signed. In that letter John reported that he intended to leave 75% of his “entire estate” to his first wife and children. When the second wife later argued that the agreement necessarily only covered his will and his probate estate (and therefore should exclude property he gave away before his death), both the probate judge and the appellate court pointed to his letter as proof that he meant the contract to include his entire estate. If that is true, it certainly would have been a good idea for the agreement to spell that out in more detail, and to cover the possibility of living trusts, lifetime transfers, creation of limited liability companies or family limited partnerships, and other arrangements.

To qualify, the veteran must have served 90 days or more of active duty, including a single day during a war time period. War time periods include the second World War, the Korean Conflict, the Vietnam War, and Desert Storm, Desert Shield, and really any service in Afghanistan or Iraq from August, 1990 onward. The Department of Veterans Affairs helpfully maintains a list of the actual dates of “Periods of War” online.
The veteran must also have been honorably discharged (or at least, not dishonorably discharged) from his or her military service. Unlike other VA programs, there is no “service-connected” requirement for this particular benefit.

The benefit is available to veterans and their surviving spouse. If you are the surviving spouse, you must have been married to the veteran at the time of his or her death and can not have remarried since.  There is an asset test; to qualify, you may have family net worth of no more than $60,000 to $80,000, not counting the value of your home, car, and certain other items.

In calculating the amount of your pension benefit, the VA assesses your “countable monthly income.” Under this formula, any money you receive from Social Security reduces the amount of money you will receive from the VA.  Note, however, that you can reduce your “countable monthly income” by monthly unreimbursed medical expenses. These include such things as your Medicare premium, a dental insurance premium, a long term care insurance premium, prescription drugs, hearing aid costs, vision care costs, and expenses related to transportation to your doctor’s office.

Application forms are available at the Veterans Administration website, http://www.va.gov, or by calling 1-800-827-1000. The veteran’s application is form 21-256, widows use form 21-534, and the medical expense form is 8416.

The state of Arizona has created a department of Veterans Services to assist state residents in obtaining federal veterans benefits to which they may be entitled. A counselor will assist you in making the application. The Tucson office is located at 1661 N. Swan Road, Suite 128, Tucson, AZ 85712 and their telephone number is (520) 207-4960. You can also call the Phoenix office toll-free at 1-800-852-8387.

Wondering why no one has invited you to a free lunch to hear about this exciting benefit? VA rules state that anyone who assists you in completing this application can charge you no more than $10.00 for the service. That makes it hard to make a living explaining the benefit, unless your salary is paid by the federal or state government.

Definition of terms first: probate is the court process by which your estate is settled and distributed to your heirs (if you have not made a valid will) or your devisees (if you have). Confusingly, “probate” is also the term applied (in most states) to the court where probate proceedings, guardianship, conservatorship and sometimes even civil commitment and adult adoptions are conducted. We are not talking here about how to avoid probate court altogether, but just about how to keep your estate from having to go through the probate process upon your death.

Arranged (more or less) from least desirable to most, here are some of the ways to avoid probate of your estate upon your death:

Die poor. In Arizona, an estate consisting of up to $50,000 of personal property can be collected by the people who claim to be entitled to it without the need of a probate court proceeding. The affidavit for collection of personal property is widely available and usually free. Your survivors can use it to transfer title to your auto, or to collect small bank (or other financial) accounts. The statute providing for collection of small estates also provides a mechanism for the surviving spouse to get a decedent’s last paycheck, and for beneficiaries to transfer title to real property up to another $75,000 in value. Most other states have a similar law, but with dollar limits that vary widely.

Give it all away. One sure-fire way to avoid probate: give everything to your kids (or whomever you want to receive your stuff) now. The main problem with this approach should be obvious — what if they won’t let you live in your house any more, or withhold the interest you counted on them returning to you each month? Things change: you might change your mind about leaving everything to that child, or to all your children. The child you transfer assets to might marry someone you don’t trust. Worse yet, that child might die — leaving you at the mercy of his or her spouse and children. Maybe you and the child you give your stuff to will end up disagreeing about when you need to go to a nursing home, or whether you ought to get married late in life, or even take in a roommate.

As an aside, it amazes us how often clients come to us after having given everything to their children. Things so often do not work out as planned. This is a very poor way to handle your estate planning — but it would avoid probate. We hear that those new-fangled strap-on jet packs avoid traffic jams, too — but we don’t recommend them as a means of getting to the doctors office.

Joint tenancy. People often refer to this method of holding title by its formal name: “joint tenancy with right of survivorship.” That makes the value of the title pretty clear — the surviving joint tenant(s) own the deceased joint tenant’s portion of the property upon death of one joint tenant. You can have more than two joint tenants — upon the death of any one, the survivors’ interests all increase. We liken this arrangement to a tontine — a lovely idea that combines the best elements of estate planning and lotteries.

Lawyers generally discourage the use of joint tenancy in estate planning. The problems are less obvious than simply giving away your stuff, but they are still real. You might later decide that the child you established the joint tenancy with should get a larger or smaller share of your estate — but the joint tenancy is always, by definition, an equal ownership interest with all the other joint tenants. People who favor joint tenancy as an alternative to good estate planning invariably, in our experience, seem to think it would be OK to name just one child as joint tenant, and to trust her (or him) to divide the property among siblings. That often works just fine — but it often leads to family disputes when the children have different expectations or understandings.

Other problems with joint tenancy: you subject your property to the creditors, spouses and business partners of the child you put on your title. You lose the power to refinance your home, to cash out your certificate of deposit, or to liquidate your government bonds — more accurately, you lose the power to do those things unless your joint tenant will also go to the title company or the bank with you and sign willingly.

Lawyers tend to dislike joint tenancy, except in one circumstance. Many people own their property in joint tenancy with spouses (homes are especially likely to be titled in that fashion), and we lawyers generally think that is alright. In Arizona, there is another alternative between spouses that we like a little better: community property with right of survivorship. That conveys some income tax benefits to a surviving spouse while still avoiding the necessity of any probate on the first spouse’s death.

Beneficiary designations. You probably have a beneficiary (maybe multiple beneficiaries) named on your life insurance policy, on any annuities you have been talked into buying, and on your retirement account (if there is any death benefit included). Did you know that you can do the same thing with bank accounts, stocks and bonds, and even (in Arizona and a handful of other states) real estate?

• POD (payable on death) bank accounts — you can designate a POD beneficiary (some banks use the acronym ITF — “in trust for” — and it means the exact same thing) who has no current interest in your account but receives it automatically upon your death. You can even name multiple POD beneficiaries. And you can do this at banks, credit unions, savings and loans. Caution: if you go to your bank and say “I heard that there’s a way I can put my son’s name on my bank account” the clerk will almost always hand you a joint tenancy signature card. Make clear that you’re talking about POD designations — they are used less commonly but are a better fit for most people.
• TOD (transfer on death) for stocks and bonds — there is a designation similar to the bank POD account for stocks, bonds, brokerage accounts and mutual funds. It is usually referred to by its acronym, TOD. It is actually more flexible than the POD designation available to banks — it allows you to designate what happens if a TOD beneficiary should die before you, for instance. Talk to your stockbroker about this titling arrangement if you think it might be a good idea for you — but talk to your lawyer first.
• Beneficiary deeds for real estate — this one is available in only about a dozen states, but Arizona is one of those. It is like a POD or TOD designation for real estate — including your home. It only works on real estate located in Arizona or one of the other beneficiary deed states. The beneficiary deed conveys no current interest in your property, but avoids probate and vests directly in your beneficiary upon recording of your death certificate. You and your spouse can, for example, own your home as community property with rights of survivorship but upon the second death automatically transfer to your children in equal shares (with provisions about what happens if one of them should not survive both of you) upon the second death. We have written about beneficiary deeds in Arizona before, and our earlier explanations are still valid (even though our newsletter style has been updated).

What’s wrong with these beneficiary-based devices? Two things, at least: (1) they don’t provide for what happens if you make life changes that effectively adjust your estate plan (if, for instance, you live off of one account that was to go to one or two children, and thereby reduce their share of the estate) and (2) they make it hard to change your estate plan (if you decide to disinherit a child, for instance, you have to make sure to change all of the operative documents and titles). But in the right circumstance, beneficiary designations can effectively transfer your estate without probate — they act as a sort of a “poor man’s” trust.

Trusts. Which gets us to the most efficient way to avoid probate for most people — the living trust. To be clear, the trust doesn’t really avoid probate at all — but your trust assets do not have to go through the probate process and so anything you have transferred during life to the trust will avoid probate. It is the “funding” of the trust that avoids probate, not the trust itself.

So there you have it. Probate avoidance in a nutshell. But wait — what’s not on that list? Did you notice? There is so much confusion about the missing item, which does not avoid probate:

Making a will. Preparing and signing your will is a good thing to do. It avoids intestate succession, which might not be right for you. It designates who will be appointed by the court to act as your personal representative. It can name the person who will be your children’s (or your incapacitated spouse’s) guardian. It can even create a trust. But it does not avoid probate.

Your will is instead instructions to the probate court. It has no effect unless and until it is admitted to probate, which another way of saying that a court has determined that it really is your last will. Clients frequently say: “thank goodness I’ve signed my will today. Now I can sleep better knowing my children won’t have to go through probate.” We say: “sit down. We have some more talking to do. Obviously we have failed to get you to understand the distinction between wills and probate avoidance.” Then we talk about living trusts.

Did that help? Do you have a better idea for probate avoidance (we’ve left a couple of less common methods off)? We’d love to hear from you.

Imagine our surprise. The questions just keep coming. We can’t and don’t try to answer them all individually — we are not here to give free legal advice based on incomplete information, and most of the questions leave out at least some of the detail we would need. But we do find your questions instructive for purposes of figuring out the level of interest — and confusion — out there.

Here are a few of the questions we have gotten (edited for space, or to focus the question on the area we want to answer). Please, please, please remember that we are not trying to give specific legal advice here — we only want to help you focus your questions for when you talk with your own lawyer, or when you find yourself arguing with the well-meaning but misinformed support person at a major mutual fund company.

My parents set up a living trust as joint trustees and used my fathers SSN Dad died, Mom survives but is incapacitated, I am the successor trustee. Do I need to get a new TIN?

The key to determining when a trust needs its own EIN (employer identification number — the correct term for a taxpayer identification number for a non-human entity) is whether or not the trust is a “grantor” trust. While your parents were both living the trust was probably revocable and for their joint benefit; it almost certainly could use one or the other parent’s Social Security Number as its TIN. With the death of your father, the question now is whether the trust (a) is still revocable and (b) contains money that was originally your mother’s.

For purposes of determining the trust’s revocability, we can ignore the fact that your mother may not be mentally able to revoke the trust. The test is whether she would have the legal authority to do so, were she competent to attempt it.

More importantly, if the trust consisted of your father’s property (and not joint or community property), then it may not be a grantor trust any longer. In that case it may need its own EIN.

Whether or not it needs to have its own EIN, it is permissible for you to get one. This is true because your mother is no longer the trustee. Many banks and brokerage houses think that the fact that she is not trustee makes a separate EIN mandatory; they are wrong. But there is no harm in getting one, and it might make it easier to deal with the financial industry. What the tax returns would look like in such a case is a separate question — one you probably ought to pose to the accountant who prepares the trust’s and your mother’s tax returns.

What name do you give the “new” trust created after the death of a spouse?

The most common scenario is this: husband and wife have either a joint revocable trust or reciprocal trusts. In either case, upon the death of the first spouse a separate trust is created for the benefit of the surviving spouse. This trust is irrevocable and contains assets that belonged originally to the now-deceased spouse. As we have described before, this new trust (it might be more accurate to call it a modification of the old trust, which is now irrevocable) needs its own EIN. But what is it called?

The trust document itself might give the answer. Mr. and Mrs. Jones’ trust might say something like “the share described herein shall be set aside into the Jones Family Trust Marital Sub-Trust” or “the Jones Family Decedent’s Trust.” If the document names the new (or sub-) trust, use that name. If not, we usually use language that makes clear — and helps us remember — what kind of trust it is. Perhaps “the Jones Family Trust — Decedent’s Share” is clear enough.

There is no particular magic to the language. Clarity is the key. There are no trust policemen waiting to arrest you for getting the name wrong, and sometimes it is easier to let the broker or banker win these arguments — even when they are wrong. But if you are trustee it IS important that you keep track of which funds belong to which sub-trust if there is more than one, and that you not commingle the money between trusts or, worse yet, with your own money.

I have my own revocable living trust, and I know it does not need a new EIN — it uses my Social Security Number. But I’m getting claim forms from the annuity company after my mother’s death, and they want me to have a trust EIN. The form lists the EIN in the xx-xxxxxxx format rather than xxx-xx-xxxx. Can I just put my Social Security Number in that odd format?

Yes, that is what we would do. It likely will work — not so much because there is a clearly right answer, but because there is no easy way for the annuity company to double-check. Their form is wrong to assume that all trusts have an EIN, and you are not even permitted to get an EIN for your revocable trust when you are the trustee and the original owner of all its assets. We encourage you to put your Social Security Number in the xx-xxxxxxx format and see if it works. We have done that before and it has.

I have a trust within my Will naming my son as beneficiary and directing my niece, the trustee, as to when to make distributions. Does she need a EIN?

She certainly will when you die. Until then, the trust doesn’t really exist, so there’s nothing to apply for now.

This suggests a question not really asked: what happens when you die with a will creating a trust? The first part of the answer: we will need to probate your estate. If your intention was to avoid probate by creating a trust, putting it in your will does not accomplish that. We see much confusion about this point among our clients and audiences when we give public presentations. Sometimes they then say something like: “ah, but we took care of that problem — we named our son as POD beneficiary” (or, sometimes, as joint tenant with right of survivorship). Great — no probate. Also — no trust. If you want your son’s money to pass in trust AND to avoid probate, you will need to talk about creating a living trust, not a testamentary trust. But that’s a lecture for another day.

Those were fun questions, but we’re out of time and space for this week’s newsletter installment. But keep sending them in — your questions help us decide where to focus our future articles. Please remember, however, that we are not here to give specific legal advice — we look for questions that raise larger questions that help us explain legal concepts for a lay audience. We hope we have helped you understand exactly why you need a lawyer for your more specific legal question.

We wrote about an individual case involving long-term care deductions last fall. In that case no returns had been filed, so the taxpayer was playing catch-up — but the U.S. Tax Court agreed that she could deduct the expenses of in-home caregivers. The Court articulated a three-item test to determine whether the taxpayer was a “chronically ill” individual; once she had met any one test, the taxpayer could deduct her medical expenses, including the caregivers.

But what if the caretaking expenses had been paid by someone other than the taxpayer herself? If, for example, she had lived with her adult daughter and the daughter had paid for caretakers to come to the home?

In such a case the daughter should be able to deduct the expenses of care — provided that the patient is a “dependent.” That requires the taxpayer using the deduction to have provided more than half of the patient’s support, and is only available if the patient is a relative OR lived with the taxpayer.

The details about deducting medical expenses for a relative or someone who lives with you are spelled out in IRS Publication 502. Don’t fret about the official-sounding title — it’s actually straightforward and understandable. It also explains exactly what the IRS is looking for when you deduct your own OR a dependent’s medical expenses, and what documentation you will need to provide (or maintain in case you are challenged).

Of course the medical deductions only affect your federal income tax to the extent that they total more than 7.5% of your Adjusted Gross Income (AGI). For many people that limitation is hard to meet. Anyone paying for in-home caregivers, though, is likely to have gotten near to or exceeded the 7.5% threshold.

What about listing a relative (other than your minor children) as a dependent on your own tax returns? Is it possible that the daughter in our earlier scenario might be able to list her mother as a depedent if the mother lives in her home? For that matter, can she list her mother as a dependent if she lives in a nursing home or assisted living facility, but the daughter pays the bill?

The short answer in both cases is “yes.” A parent can be a dependent. That can mean, as described above, that their medical expenses may be listed as deductions on your return — but it also leads to a more direct benefit. If you can list your parent (or another relative) as a dependent, you can get an additional exemption — which reduces your taxable income even before looking for eligible deductions like medical expenses.

Can your parent be your dependent? Yes, but the requirements can be a little complicated. First, they must EITHER be a “qualifying relative” (pretty much any kind of relative you can name, including stepchildren and foster children) OR live with you. In addition, they may not have more than $3,700 (in 2011) of their own income. You must also provide at least half of their support. There are limited exceptions to some of those rules, but that’s the basic test for determining whether you can claim a parent or another person as a dependent. NOTE: these rules are not the same as the ones determining whether you can claim your minor children as dependents — THOSE rules can be much more detailed and complicated.

How can you figure out if you meet all the tests (and their exceptions)? You may not be surprised to learn that the IRS has a Publication to explain that. It is IRS Publication 501, and (just like the earlier Publication we mentioned) it is actually helpful and understandable information.

Can you get a direct credit for the caretaking services you provided for your mother yourself last year? Generally, no — and if you think about it that shouldn’t be too surprising. If you could deduct the value of those services, you would need to claim a similar amount as “income.” But that doesn’t mean that there is no tax benefit to having provided those services. First, they will help you establish that you have provided more than half the support necessary for your parent or family member. Second, you might be eligible to deduct expenses (but not the value of your caregiving) for a dependent. Look at IRS Form 2441 for Child and Dependent Care Expenses; the separate instructions for Form 2441 are (wait for it) straightforward and understandable.

Summing up: taking care of a relative (or someone who lives with you, even if they are not a relative) may be personally and emotionally rewarding. It will not usually be profitable. At least, though, there are some slight tax benefits for those who undertake what is usually a labor of love. Make sure you claim deductions and exemptions you are entitled to by virtue of your caregiving services.

Significantly, the grandchild pleads with you not to notify his or her parents, because they’ll be angry. If you note that the grandchild’s voice sounds different, he or she will say that the police broke his or her nose during the course of the arrest. If you ask for a phone number, so you can call back, you’re told that this is an outgoing number at the police station and it’s not possible to call back. There’s no way to contact your grandchild again. You are instructed to go quickly to the bank, withdraw an amount that is usually slightly less than $5,000.00 (any more will attract the government’s attention) and arrange for a wire transfer.

If you have grandchildren you probably love them dearly. We suspect that if you got a call from a grandkid in trouble, you’d spring into action. Any questions you might have about the truthfulness of what you’re being told would be superseded by the stress and anxiety of learning that your grandchild was in serious trouble and needed your help urgently.

We know of several instances lately of our clients (or the parents or other family members of our clients) being targeted by this kind of scam. In one case, the grandmother was at Walmart attempting to wire funds when the store clerk alerted her that this was likely a scam and that she should call the grandchild, or his parent, before wiring any money. In another instance, the scam was discovered earlier in the process because the grandmother was known to her family by a nickname, and not as “Grandma.”  She was immediately suspicious.  But, worryingly, in that case, the person on the other end of the line identified herself using the actual name of a real granddaughter.

Of course it is despicable of scammers to play on a grandparent’s love for their grandchildren. Worse yet, they frighten and alarm their elderly victims. Please, if someone tries to spur you to action by playing on your fears, stop, take a deep breath, and apply a little skepticism before you proceed any further.

Other than health skepticism, what can you do to protect yourself? If this happens to you, ask your caller to recall a pet’s name, or a family vacation spot, or something that only your actual grandchild would know. Be cautious, however — the sophistication of scammers has increased as private details become widely available on the internet. In one case, for example, police reported that the caller knew that the victim they were calling had an identical twin, and even that the victim was two minutes younger than her sister.

What if this happens to a family member? If money has been wired, immediately contact the transfer company. If it has already been picked up it is too late, but even if the money is gone at least the authorities will have one more piece of data to stop future scams and maybe even locate your scammer. Contact the FBI or its Internet Crime Complaint Center to file a report. Unofficial agencies like the Better Business Bureau also track scam information and may be able to make other suggestions.

Worried that something like this might happen to a vulnerable senior in your family? Start by locking down their internet vulnerability — scammers often use e-mail malware to collect information about potential victims. Make sure your family member’s internet use is protected. Caution them about social media — trusting seniors might be inclined to share too much sensitive and personal information online.

Make sure your family member knows to contact you before succumbing to a scammer’s pleas for confidentiality. Maybe you even want to adopt a family code word to signal that any caller is truly a family member. Please don’t inject unnecessary fear into your family member’s life, but make sure they have sufficient skepticism and the comfort to contact you or another family member no matter what a scammer might tell them.

Want to familiarize yourself with the kinds of scams working across the internet and through your neighborhood? Check out the Better Business Bureau’s “Scam Aggregator.” It might amaze, alarm and inform you all at the same time.

Why the enduring interest? Because the question is so much less complicated than people think it is. There is a surprising paucity of clear information about when you need to have a new tax ID number (an EIN, if you want to use the correct acronym). And much of the information out there is contradictory.

We have written about the question several times before. In 2009 we asked and answered the question: “Do you need a new tax ID number for your living trust?” Just last year we reviewed the question, along with some other reader questions, and provided a little more detail on when your trust needs an EIN. Since those two explanations the rules haven’t really changed — but your questions have gotten a little bit more sophisticated.

Several of those questions deal with the same basic scenario: what happens when a husband and wife have a joint trust, using one spouse’s Social Security number, and then that spouse dies? The answer will depend on what the trust provides.

First, a word about joint trusts for spouses: they are common in community property states (like Arizona), not as common in those states where community property principles do not apply. Remember, please, that we are Arizona lawyers, and so we write here about Arizona rules. Attorneys from other states are more than free to add their comments; we will post them as we receive them — but we are not vouching for the accuracy of their advice in states other than Arizona.

Let’s set up a scenario, drawn from our common experience: Husband and wife created a joint revocable trust, and their bank accounts, brokerage accounts, insurance — all of their assets, in fact — listed the husband’s Social Security number. They could do that because, as with a joint account outside of a trust, tax rules allow one owner’s identifying number to be used rather than having to use all owners’ numbers. But now the husband has died. What should the (surviving) wife do about the TIN (Taxpayer Identification Number)?

Before we answer, we need to know what happens to the trust on the death of the first spouse. Let’s assume, for a moment, that it remains in one trust, that the wife now has the power to amend or revoke it in its entirety, and that she is the sole trustee. In that case, the direction is easy: tell the bank, the brokerage house and the insurance company to change the name of the trustee from the couple to the wife, and to change the TIN to the wife’s Social Security number. How do you do that? Send them a death certificate and a letter instructing them to make the changes. Assume, incidentally, that they won’t — it will often take you two or three tries, several phone calls, and some wheedling to get the task done. But that’s what should happen.

What if the wife is not the sole trustee? Let’s say, for a moment, that the oldest daughter now becomes co-trustee with her mother, but that the trust remains revocable and amendable by the wife. In that situation, we have the same answer: switch to the wife’s Social Security number.

What if the wife has the power to revoke or amend the trust, but she is now incapacitated? The oldest daughter is the sole trustee, and isn’t sure what to tell the financial institutions. The answer is still the same: the trust is still revocable (even though there may be no practical way to revoke it if the only person with power to do so is incapacitated), and the wife’s Social Security number is the trust’s TIN (expect to have an argument with the financial institutions over this one). Is a bank trust department the successor trustee instead? Same answer — but with the ironic twist that the argument between trustee and financial institution will now occur between two branches of the same organization.

Sometimes a joint revocable trust becomes irrevocable on the death of one spouse. More commonly it splits into two (or sometimes three) portions, one (or two) of which are irrevocable. What happens then? The answer, as you might expect, is a little bit more complicated — and may not be the same in every case.

Generally speaking, an irrevocable trust that does not contain the assets originally belonging to the beneficiary is likely to need its own EIN. That may mean that one (sometimes two) of the trusts resulting from the death of one spouse needs a new EIN, and one just uses the surviving spouse’s Social Security number.

Let’s use a specific example: in our earlier scenario, after the death of the husband the joint revocable trust splits into a “Decedent’s” (sometimes “bypass”) share and a “Survivor’s” share. The Decedent’s Trust is irrevocable. Wife is the trustee, and she is entitled to all the income from the trust. She may even have the ability to distribute trust principal to herself, or to decide how the Trust is divided among the couple’s children at her death. But this trust is not  “grantor” trust — it gets taxed as a separate entity. Hence, it needs its own EIN, and it files its own tax returns.

Mechanically, the process of dividing the trust is a little more complicated than in our earlier scenario. An estate tax return may be required (although it may not). A division of trust assets needs to be completed (the assistance of a competent lawyer and a good accountant is essential here). The share to be assigned to the Decedent’s Trust needs to be identified, and then physically transferred into a new account — often titled something like “The Jones Family Trust — Decedent’s Trust” (yeah, we know — your name isn’t Jones. Stick with us anyway). And that new account needs to use the Decedent’s Trust’s new EIN.

Note that we said that the assets need to be transferred into the new account. Most financial institutions will insist on opening a new account, with a new account number, rather than simply changing the name on an existing account. But when the process is completed — however you and the financial institution get there — the Decedent’s Trust should be physically separated from the Survivor’s Trust, it will have its own EIN, and it will need to file tax returns. Note: it probably will not pay any tax as a separate entity — all its income will  probably be imputed to the surviving spouse.

Meanwhile, the remaining trust assets in our example will continue to use the wife’s Social Security number. It may not be crucial to change the name on that account to “The Jones Family Trust — Survivor’s Trust” (those Joneses — they end up will all the money anyway). If you long for clarity, we would certainly support a transfer of the Surivor’s Trust share into a new account, titled as part of that sub-trust, and bearing the wife’s Social Security number — even if it is not required.

Recall, please, that there are lots of variations on this basic scenario. Be careful about generalizing from this information to your precise circumstances. Our goal here is to give you some general notions about what needs to be done — we do not think of ourselves as a substitute for good, personalized legal advice. We think, in fact, that you should get some of that, because your situation might well be more complicated than you think it is. But we hope we’ve given you some idea of what your attorney will be asking you, and what he or she is likely to tell you.

This is a question we have addressed before, in discussing a 1996 Mississippi case. It comes up from time to time and in different circumstances. The Mississippi case described earlier, for instance, involved a conservatorship rather than a guardianship proceeding, though the principles are the same in either circumstance. The bottom line, as described in our earlier article, is that a person may be able to sign a new will in Arizona — even if they have been determined to be incapacitated, or in need of (financial) protection.

A recent Arizona Court of Appeals decision revisited the question, with a slight twist. John Bartlett (not his real name) had been the subject of both a guardianship and a conservatorship order since 2004. On May 28, 2008, the probate court held a hearing on his request to terminate his guardianship. He maintained that he no longer needed a guardian, but the probate judge decided that he continued to be incapacitated — that is, that he was still unable to make responsible decisions regarding his own care.

That very same day John signed a new will. In it, he disinherited his daughter (his only child) and left his entire estate to his grandson. The document also revoked an earlier will, signed before the guardianship proceedings were begun, which had named his daughter as his personal representative and left his entire estate to her.

When John died a few months after signing his new will, a probate court dispute ensued regarding which document was valid. Did John have the capacity to revoke his old will, and to disinherit his daughter? Both wills were submitted for consideration, and the probate court found the new will to be valid and admitted it to probate.

When the personal representative of the estate filed a final report with the court, John’s daughter objected that her challenge to the new will (and to a trust signed the same day) had not been resolved. The estate’s personal representative disagreed, and filed motions to strike the daughter’s pleadings, enter summary judgment in favor of the later will, and close the estate. In a series of hearings, the probate court granted all of those requests.

The Arizona Court of Appeals disagreed. Although John’s daughter had not put on any evidence — indeed, she had not even filed any pleadings expressly objecting to the summary judgment request — the probate court should have been on notice that there was substantial evidence of John’s incapacity. The fact of a guardianship proceeding was enough to raise doubts about his ability to sign a new will, and summary judgment — entered without taking any evidence — was improper, according to the appellate judges.

The Court of Appeals takes pains to make clear that it is not holding that John’s will is invalid, or that people under guardianship can not sign new wills. In fact, the mere existence of a guardianship does not (in Arizona, at least) even create a presumption of incapacity to sign a will. But the existence of the guardianship proceeding, and especially the guardianship finding on the very day John signed his new will, should have alerted the probate court that there was some evidence in support of a challenge to that will. Estate of Blackford, March 13, 2012.

Georgia’s story was fairly typical: she had lived at home independently until, at age 90, her physical ailments made it difficult for her to get along without help. The move to be next to her daughter was occasioned by her daughter’s concern that she was at risk living alone. One particular concern: after Georgia fell in her home, she worried that if she were to fall again she might not be able to get up, even to summon help.

After Georgia’s initial move to Arizona, daughter Barbara helped her with her banking, filling out checks and making transfers and withdrawals. She was a joint tenant with her mother on some accounts; several were changed from joint tenancy to “payable on death” (POD) to Barbara at some point. Meanwhile, Georgia’s other daughter Elizabeth was less involved — though she also lived nearby.

Shortly before Georgia’s move to be next door to Barbara, Barbara had purchased six condominium units in the complex where she lived. In fact, Georgia’s move was into one of those units. Elizabeth would later argue that the money for those purchases came from their mother’s accounts.

After Georgia’s death in 2003, Elizabeth initiated a probate proceeding and was appointed as personal representative of Georgia’s estate. She then filed an action against Barbara, alleging that Barbara had taken advantage of Georgia while she was a “vulnerable adult” — an important term under Arizona’s law protecting seniors and those with disabilities.

After a five-day trial, she convinced the judge that Georgia was vulnerable, that Barbara had held a position of trust with their mother, and that she violated that trust by using Georgia’s money to purchase her condominium units. The judge entered a judgment for $179,518.51 against Barbara, and imposed a constructive trust on five of the condominium units (ordering that they could be sold to satisfy the judgment). The judge also ruled that Barbara had forfeited any right to inherit from her mother’s estate; the judge did not impose treble damages against Barbara, which was an option available at the time (the Arizona legislature has since reduced the maximum penalty to double the amount of the basic judgment, though that would not have made any difference in this case).

The Arizona Court of Appeals upheld the judgment. The key question raised by Barbara on appeal: how could the trial court have found Georgia was “vulnerable” when the evidence indicated she was fully competent? Can vulnerability be based solely on evidence of physical limitations?

The short answer: yes. The appellate judges ruled that vulnerability for purposes of Arizona’s exploitation statute can be predicated solely on physical impairments if, as a result of the impairments, the victim is unable to protect herself from the exploiter. Mental impairment is not necessarily required. In this case, according to the court, Georgia’s “diminished vision and hearing could also have made her more susceptible to exploitation, as they could make her less aware of her surroundings and the circumstances of any transactions in which she became involved, thereby making her less able to protect herself if targeted for exploitation.”

That is not to say that every transaction Georgia might enter into would be suspect. “A vulnerable adult may still have the capacity to transfer property,” according to the judges. In fact, Georgia had transferred her original townhome to Elizabeth and the family home in Kansas to Barbara; those transfers did not necessarily amount to exploitation.

There is a second interesting holding in the appellate decision, though it is perhaps less far-reaching in its scope. After the trial was over, and while one of Barbara’s sons was packing up his belongings to move out of the condominium he lived in (and which would now be sold), he said he discovered old letters written by Georgia. Those letters related how Georgia was helping Barbara and her husband purchase several condominiums so that they would have income when they retired. Barbara moved to reopen the trial to introduce those letters, but the trial judge refused.

That refusal was not error, according to the Court of Appeals. There was insufficient evidence that the letters could have been found by diligent search before the trial. More importantly, the letters would not likely have changed the outcome. Why not? Because Barbara’s (and her husband’s) defense throughout the trial had been not that Georgia permitted the use of her money but that none of her money was involved in purchasing the condominiums. The letters would therefore have run counter to their core argument. In re Estate of Gorsik, April 12, 2012.

There are several footnotes worth mentioning in discussion of the appeal in Georgia’s case. First, the decision is a “Memorandum Decision.” That means that, though the appellate court laid out its reasoning and legal arguments, the decision is not “published” and therefore can not (at least not usually) be cited as precedent in other, similar cases. It is in the nature of lawyers and judges to make and keep records, so one irony about unpublished (memorandum) decisions is that they are published,  can be read by anyone who wants to take the time to look for them, and are often cited as at least some evidence of the inclinations of appellate courts.

Another small irony: even as Georgia’s case was working its way through the courts, the Arizona legislature has been busy weakening the protections afforded to victims of abuse, neglect and exploitation. First, as noted above, was the reduction of “treble damages” awards to “double damages.” That, as it turned out, had no direct effect on Georgia’s case, since the trial judge decided that extra damages should not be awarded — but it does make such cases less attractive to lawyers with experience in exploitation cases, and it reduces the likelihood that any given case will be initiated in the future. Since then, the legislature has continued to push at the margins of abuse, neglect and exploitation cases; there is a bill pending even now that would eliminate the availability of an award of attorneys fees to the successful party in cases involving vulnerable adults.

Why would the legislature want to eliminate protections for vulnerable adult victims? Probably because some abuse, neglect and exploitation cases are filed against nursing homes, long-term care homes and medical providers, and they tend to have legislators’ attention. Vulnerable adults, by contrast, have a very poor lobbying record.