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  1. My sisters have pretty much stopped speaking to me since my father died, leaving me the executor. It is rather obvious why he named me executor, since my sisters told him they didn't want him to move to their town -an hour away-while I was trying very hard to coax him to move from PA to AZ. He had Parkinson's Disease and had to leave his split level house. I took care of him for ten years, while my sisters had little contact with him aside from milking him for money. My younger sister was able to find a second husband to provide for her very well, having divorced her first husband, the psychopath, and conning my dad into providing over $100K for her during the interim. She was not named the executor because she's not trustworthy, even though she could have probably determined everything of value in my dad's condo in less than an hour and arranged to have the rest hauled off. My older sister was not named executor because she cannot handle her own affairs, much less adding the affairs of another person across the country. Nevertheless, my older sister and I were always close until recently. When she began really struggling after her losing child support because her kids were over 18 , I bought her art, sent her money, and got my father to send her money when she couldn't pay her mortgage or had no oil to heat her house or whatever emergency she had going. We both helped her a LOT. She didn't even want to have to ask our dad for money-she wanted me to do it, and I did. He got tired of sending her money, complaining "I don't understand why she won't work". I set up an arrangement whereby she would do 2-3 hours of commercial (graphic) artwork for me every week ($40/hour) and my dad would pay her, with me facilitating the transfer of funds immediately upon the receipt of her emailed invoice. He liked it because she was working, To me, it was a luxury-it would have been more difficult to do it myself. My sister...was not so happy about it because she had to create simple invoices, and occasionally I had some input about what she was doing for me and once or twice had the audacity to ask her to change something, like a font. I once asked my older sister if she had seen something that I had put on Facebook for her benefit. She became irritated and pointed out that she could hardly be expected to see some post from me because she had over 700 fb friends. Now she has over 800 fb friends. Her birthday was Friday. I sent her...drumroll...a message saying, "Happy Birthday!" That's it! I'm really sick of watching a parade of all her arty posts about herself and her artsy friends and how cool and artsy they are while I am out here alone crying and digging through our father's possessions, and trying to make room for everything I can at my own small condo by jettisoning my own stuff. My father's collection of stuff also includes things of my mother's and both of their parents, grandparents, etc. My sisters also got a lot of family stuff because our parent's house was way bigger than my dad's condo. My dad brought the things that meant the most to him. It's been really difficult and my sisters are not interested in hearing about it. Today I stopped following my sister on fb...