Family Financial Matters

Dear Brothers,

I have decided to explain this situation in greater detail because I understand that some of you are already somewhat familiar with it, while others may have heard only about certain parts of it.

This is a deeply personal family matter, and I have no desire to bring such things outside the family. That is why, in late May, when the possibility of recommending Clayton for appointment as a ministerial servant was discussed, I chose not to go into detail. I said only that an unresolved issue concerning the parents’ finances and trust remained between our families and that, under the circumstances at the time, I could not recommend him.

I sincerely hoped then that we could resolve the matter within the family and would never need to involve the brothers in its details.

Several months have passed. Unfortunately, the situation remains unresolved, and additional circumstances have come to light. We have tried several times to discuss everything in person, exchanged letters and messages, received repayments, and requested documents. In the process, the issue of trust has become even more difficult.

Because Clayton’s appointment is being considered again, I believe it is appropriate to explain more fully how this situation arose and where matters stand today.

How the Financial Affairs Were Arranged

Some background is important. Our family had always understood that the property and funds belonging to Mayya and Nana’s parents were ultimately intended for both daughters equally.

When the parents began transferring their funds to the United States and buying property here, we were not yet in the country. Their assets were therefore temporarily titled in Nana’s name. These assets eventually included a rental house, a Chase checking account into which the tenants paid rent, and a certificate of deposit (CD) at 3Rivers. The family understood that Clayton was not to be an owner of these assets.

In January 2026, the parents decided to change the formal ownership of their assets so that both daughters would have equal rights. It was during that process that the circumstances leading to the present situation began to emerge.

Clayton’s Name on the Bank Account

When Mayya was being added to the Chase checking account, we learned, during the meeting with the bank employee, that Nana was not its only owner. Clayton was also listed as a joint owner. This came as a surprise to us. Neither the parents nor Mayya knew that Nana had added Clayton to the account. It had never been discussed or agreed upon.

This was especially difficult to understand because, just a few months earlier, in November 2025, Clayton himself had described the arrangement differently during a conversation about the parents’ finances: “My name is not on the account, but I'm called a POD — paid on death.”

Even then, learning that Clayton was named to receive the money in the bank account upon Nana’s death raised questions for us. Why Clayton? On what basis would the money pass to him rather than to the parents, if they were still living, or to Mayya? Who made that decision?

Designating who receives funds upon someone’s death is a sensitive matter with consequences for inheritance. We could not understand how Nana could make such a decision without discussing it with the rest of the family. At the time, however, we felt uncomfortable asking these questions directly, believing at least that Clayton was not one of the account owners.

The way we learned that Clayton was on the account also left a painful impression. It came out at the bank, at the employee’s desk, while Mayya was being added. No one had explained it or warned us beforehand, although it could have been discussed calmly in advance, even a day earlier. We struggled to understand why this information was withheld until the last possible moment, leaving us to discover it during the account paperwork. That only strengthened the impression that an important fact had deliberately been kept from us until it could no longer be concealed.

The initial response was immediately defensive. We were first told that Clayton’s presence on the account was necessary for tax reporting. Because the parents’ assets were formally held in Nana’s name and the related income was reported on Clayton and Nana’s joint income tax return, his ownership of the bank account was presented as absolutely necessary. This explanation was delivered so confidently and condescendingly that our questions were treated as foolish, as though we did not understand something elementary: “You file tax returns yourselves; surely you understand why this is needed.”

To us, that explanation did not fit how tax reporting and bank account ownership actually work. It might have sounded convincing to older relatives unfamiliar with these matters. But we had filed our own tax returns for several years and understood that being an owner of a particular bank account and reporting income on a jointly filed tax return are separate matters. The more insistently this argument was presented as self-evident, the more it felt as though we were being misled.

Later, the explanation changed. We were then told that Clayton had been added simply for convenience: so that he could use the banking app, handle practical matters, and avoid bothering Nana unnecessarily.

It also took time to establish when Clayton had actually been added. At first the explanation suggested that he had been associated with the account almost from the beginning; later it sounded as though he had been added a short time afterward. No one gave us a precise date. In response to straightforward questions, we again heard uncertain answers: they did not remember, did not know, or needed to check. Eventually, we contacted the bank ourselves. We learned that the account was opened on February 25, 2022, and Clayton was added as a joint owner on February 17, 2023, almost a year later. This matters because the bank had not originally opened the account in both spouses’ names. Adding Clayton was a separate, deliberate step that required a visit to the bank to change the account ownership. It was hard for us to treat that as accidental or insignificant. We also believed that the idea of adding Clayton had not originated with Nana.

There was just as much uncertainty about how he had become a joint owner. Different explanations were offered at different times, including the suggestion that the bank might have added him automatically as Nana’s spouse when the account was opened. Nana said she no longer remembered exactly what happened or who proposed it. Thus, even on this concrete point, we received no clear, consistent account—only speculation, general recollections, and explanations that shifted during the conversation.

Clayton and Nana later apologized. As we understood their apology, however, it concerned mainly their failure to tell us beforehand and the surprise of finding Clayton’s name on the account. Nana’s position seemed to be that she had not thought it necessary to mention it separately, but was sorry if it had hurt or offended us. We did not hear an acknowledgment of the more substantial problem: a decision affecting ownership of the parents’ assets had been made without discussion or agreement with the family members to whom Nana was accountable for managing those assets.

At our August 20 meeting, we again discussed what Clayton had said in November. This time, he explained that he had not been referring to the Chase checking account at all, but to the CDs at 3Rivers. I asked him twice to make sure I understood. We had not heard that explanation before. It was another instance of the account of the same events changing over time. Whether he was named as a payable-on-death (POD) beneficiary on those CDs is a fact that bank records could establish. We have not seen records confirming this newer explanation. Its appearance therefore did not resolve our earlier questions; it increased our doubts about the consistency and reliability of the explanations we had received.

In our conversations, Clayton himself gave examples of becoming involved in the assets of other elderly relatives in a similar way. He said he had added his name to his mother’s bank account without telling his sister Elizabeth, and had also added his name to the bank account of his first wife’s mother in New York. He offered these examples to show that he regarded this approach as normal and that he was trying to help. To us, they suggested that what happened with the parents’ assets was not an isolated case. We saw a recurring approach in which Clayton considered it acceptable to become a joint owner, or otherwise acquire formal rights concerning an older relative’s assets, without first discussing it with other family members. His account of his mother’s bank account was particularly troubling because he and Elizabeth later had a serious property-related conflict and their relationship remains strained.

Excess Amounts Received from the Parents

A second problem emerged in the spring. On April 17, a message in the family chat said that the parents had withdrawn $1,000. After Mayya asked about it, we were told the money was for car insurance and taxes.

When we asked what “taxes” meant, the parents told us that for several years they had paid Clayton and Nana amounts based on an estimate of what the parents themselves would have paid in taxes if they had filed their own income tax return and the property had been titled directly in their names.

That changed how we viewed the matter, because the calculation turned out to be very rough: it applied a percentage to gross income without accounting for deductions and expenses. The resulting overpayment could be several times the actual amount. Since we had not previously known how the calculation was made, we naturally had questions. Why was it based on a hypothetical tax bill for the parents filing separately? Where did that method come from? Why use such an approximation instead of determining the actual additional costs Clayton and Nana incurred because the parents’ property was held in their names? In our view, the question should have been how to reimburse an actual additional financial burden, rather than charge the parents a hypothetical amount under a formula chosen by Clayton and Nana.

We explained to the parents why this method could substantially overstate the actual taxes. Lyudmila then spoke with Nana.

On May 15, Nana said the $1,000 had been withdrawn by mistake: the car insurance actually required only $216. She returned the remaining $784 to the account. No explanation followed of what the mistake was, how the original amount had been calculated, or why $1,000 had been withdrawn at all. It was presented almost as a minor clerical error: the excess was withdrawn, returned, and the matter was considered closed. The ease with which such a substantial mistake was mentioned and left unexplained only deepened our questions.

On May 21, Mayya and Nana met at Starbucks. Mayya asked the natural next question: if the amount for 2025 had been calculated incorrectly, how had these amounts been calculated in earlier years, and how much had the parents paid in total? Nana replied that the question had simply never occurred to her before. She said they needed to check and that calculations for prior years might also have been wrong. A few days later, on May 26, Nana said she and Clayton had found another error and returned an additional $3,500 to the account. If the initial $1,000 withdrawal had already raised serious questions, the discovery of a second, much larger amount created even more uncertainty. Instead of clarifying the matter, the $3,500 repayment prompted new questions: Where did that figure come from? How much had originally been received? Which years were involved? How could the supposed “taxes” have reached such amounts?

Both the $784 repayment and the later $3,500 repayment were characterized as corrections of mistakes, without a detailed account of how those mistakes arose or what had been done incorrectly. The word “mistake” seemed to be expected to settle the issue: an error was made, the money was returned, and the problem was over. To us, that seemed to minimize a serious situation as a routine calculation error requiring no further attention. Repeated mistakes involving substantial sums and calculations over several years called for more explanation. We wanted answers, but even more, we needed an account of what had happened that would address the concern that the inflated amounts resulted from actions taken in their own interests at the elderly parents’ expense. That is why we needed an open, thorough conversation, rather than simply being told that the money had been returned.

We raised these questions repeatedly, both in correspondence and in person. Instead of a systematic review, our questions generally met with irritation and only partial answers. We received a reasonably detailed explanation only for the $1,000 calculation for 2025, although our main questions concerned previous years and much larger amounts. We saw no willingness to calmly reconstruct the full picture: exactly how much the parents had paid, how the amounts were calculated, where errors occurred, and how similar problems could be prevented. Despite repeated questions, we still have no complete substantive answer, nor have Clayton and Nana taken the initiative to clarify these circumstances. We remain with our questions and doubts, each side holding to its own understanding of events, without a shared account that can be checked against the records.

Nana’s position caused another question. In her meeting with Mayya and in other conversations, she began saying that she herself had calculated these payments. Before questions about the errors arose, we had consistently been told that Clayton was the one familiar with the American system, handling taxes, finances, documents, and practical matters concerning the parents’ property. That was also the explanation for why he needed to be on the bank account. When the errors came to light, however, responsibility for the figures was suddenly attributed to Nana.

Our Attempts to Resolve the Matter

We tried several times to understand and resolve the matter within the family. On February 3, the entire family met at our home after we learned that Clayton’s name had been added to the account holding the parents’ money. Mayya and I said at the outset that we were not accusing him of stealing or spending the money for himself. What troubled us was that the decision had been made without discussion and that he had previously said his name was not on the account and he was only a POD beneficiary. Clayton said he had added his name to make it easier to manage the rental property, pay expenses, arrange repairs, and handle taxes, and saw this as part of his years of helping the family. Nana acknowledged that she might not have explained the account arrangement clearly enough to the parents and Mayya. At the end of the meeting, everyone agreed that significant decisions about the parents’ house, accounts, and other assets should be discussed in advance from then on.

The family met again on February 24, this time at Clayton and Nana’s home, to discuss management of the property, rental income, expenses, and tax reporting after Mayya had been added as a co-owner of the house. In the second part of that meeting, Mayya returned to Clayton’s earlier statement about being a POD beneficiary and not being on the bank account. Clayton said he did not remember exactly which account he had meant. He denied having been separately designated as a POD beneficiary on a CD, and connected the earlier conversation at different points to a POD designation on the deposits and to his name on the Chase account. He also denied intending to hide anything and said he had acted in the parents’ interests. The conversation became more emotional, but we did not get a precise explanation of the discrepancy between his earlier statement and the actual account ownership.

On March 3, Mayya and Nana met with the parents at the parents’ home and discussed the questions that had accumulated. In June, we sent Clayton and Nana a detailed letter setting out our questions and proposing continued dialogue. In July, I repeatedly suggested meeting in person.

Clayton and I met one on one on July 28. He again said he had added his name to the account to manage the rental property and pay expenses, repairs, and taxes, and that he had never considered the parents’ money his own. He also acknowledged that he should have informed us more clearly in advance and put the arrangements in writing. For us, the issue was not confined to his motives. Important decisions about the parents’ assets had been made without prior discussion and had remained unclear for a long time.

A second one-on-one meeting took place on August 20. We returned to the tax calculations, documents, and bank account. The conversation lasted about an hour and a half but ended in conflict: Clayton raised his voice, ended the discussion, and struck my car with his hand as he left. I describe that meeting more fully below.

Over several months, then, we tried to discuss the situation at family meetings, in letters, and in personal conversations. Some questions received explanations, but key matters—particularly the earlier statements about the bank account, how decisions were made, and the tax calculations—were never fully clarified. For us, the problem was not a lack of apologies. The reasons for the loss of trust remained unaddressed.

How Incomplete Answers Affected Trust

In my view, this is one of the main reasons the situation deteriorated so much. The difficulty lay both in the original actions and in the response to subsequent questions. The same pattern recurred: a question brought a partial answer; clarification brought further information; another question was needed before action followed. We asked about the $1,000, and $784 was returned. We asked what had happened in earlier years, and another $3,500 was returned. We requested the complete set of property documents, initially received a folder missing key documents, and then had to seek the missing papers separately. We raised Clayton’s ownership of the bank account; he did not remove himself voluntarily, and eventually Zurab had to insist personally that Clayton be removed as an owner. Receiving information in installments naturally led to further questions. Yet those follow-up questions were often treated as excessive scrutiny, as though nothing anyone said or did could ever satisfy us. That combination of incomplete answers and negative reactions to natural questions made resolution especially difficult and further eroded trust.

The effort to obtain the house documents illustrates the problem. Before our second one-on-one meeting, I asked Clayton to bring all the documents relating to the rental property. By then, Mayya was a co-owner of the house with Nana. Clayton did bring a fairly thick folder. I did not examine it closely during the meeting.

When I reviewed it afterward, I found receipts, some utility bills, assorted current papers, and a great many manuals for appliances in the house. What was missing was precisely what one would first expect in the property records: the purchase documents, the deed, and the closing documents. A separate exchange of messages followed as we asked for the missing records. We then heard a familiar explanation: Clayton and Nana needed the documents for tax reporting, so they could not give them to us.

This strongly reminded me of the initial explanation for Clayton’s ownership of the bank account. Once again, “taxes” were offered as a reason an ordinary, reasonable request could not be met. Eventually, after the parents intervened, the documents were provided. So when someone now says, “But we gave you the documents,” that is technically true. It took weeks of requests to obtain them.

Why the Later Changes Did Not Restore Trust

Later conversations emphasized what had changed: “We returned the money”; “Mayya is now a co-owner of the house”; “She is now on the accounts”; “We provided the documents.” Correcting a problem once it has been found is part of restoring trust, but personal initiative matters too: volunteering information, producing records, explaining calculations, offering to review the accounts, and showing a willingness to resolve everything that raises questions.

Here, Mayya was added to the house title and accounts following the parents’ decision. The money was returned after we questioned the calculations. The missing records were supplied after further requests and the parents’ involvement. Clayton ceased to be an owner of the bank account after Zurab directly demanded it. The principal changes came in response to questions and demands, rather than on Clayton and Nana’s own initiative. That is why the changes themselves did not restore trust. They addressed particular consequences, but did not demonstrate the openness and voluntary transparency needed to rebuild it.

The August 20 Meeting

I initiated two lengthy one-on-one meetings with Clayton. I had sought these meetings for some time because I wanted to speak directly and openly about the questions troubling us. The first, on July 28, lasted nearly three hours. The second, on August 20, lasted about an hour and a half. Unfortunately, the second meeting ended badly.

I tried to obtain a specific answer about how much Clayton and Nana had received from the parents in earlier years in connection with taxes and how those amounts had been calculated. Clayton said the calculations had been wrong, the error had been corrected, the money returned, and he had never intended to take anything from the parents. He again pointed to his years of helping the family and his past actions as evidence of his intentions. As the conversation continued, he increasingly asked me to stop revisiting the bank account and other past issues, to accept his apology, and to “let it go.” He interrupted me, began shouting, ended the meeting, and struck my car with his hand as he left. There was no separate conversation afterward about how the meeting had ended. Since then, there has been no substantive continuation of our discussion on these questions; in substance, matters stand where they did when we parted on August 20.

Focusing on the Effects Rather Than the Causes

Over time it became clear that we understood the problem differently. For Clayton, the principal problem seems to be the consequences: he is not trusted, the relationship has grown colder, and there is distance between the families. For us, the problem is what caused that distance. Our distrust arose in response to what happened. Asking us simply to restore our former closeness reverses cause and effect. If the events that created the distance are left unexamined and the focus rests only on the fact that the families are less close, the underlying reasons for the loss of trust remain unresolved.

Why This Has Been So Painful for Mayya

For Mayya, this has been painful for reasons beyond money or documents. She gradually came to feel that she was being pushed aside in matters concerning her parents’ property and the family’s assets. Important decisions were made without her. Information came in pieces, and she often learned what had happened only afterward. She felt that her place in family affairs was narrowing and that she was no longer participating equally in matters concerning both daughters.

What made this especially difficult was that Mayya hoped for more than the transfer of documents or correction of individual decisions. She hoped for an open conversation in which Clayton and Nana would calmly explain what had happened, why they had acted as they did, and whether they understood why it had hurt her so deeply. Such a conversation could have eased many doubts. It has not happened.

This is not a conflict with distant relatives for Mayya. Nana is her only sister, someone Mayya loves, cared for extensively from childhood, and trusted almost unconditionally for many years. Mayya therefore experiences what happened as a loss of closeness, trust, and the feeling that they are still one family, as well as a financial dispute.

Mayya would still welcome an honest conversation in which the entire situation is explained openly, genuine regret is expressed, and there is a shared desire to understand what happened. Only then, she feels, could the relationship gradually begin to recover.

Intentions in Place of Specific Answers

In conversations and letters, Clayton repeatedly asks us to focus above all on his intentions and past conduct: he helped the parents for years, took care of their affairs, and nothing went missing, so in his view he had no reason to act in his own interests. That shifts the discussion from specific questions to an overall judgment of his character and motives. An appeal to good intentions does not itself explain what was done and why. Nor does the assertion that “nothing went missing” settle the matter: substantial amounts were returned only after we began examining the situation. We need to examine the actions and the facts, rather than draw conclusions about what happened solely from an assessment of his intentions.

Where Matters Stand Today

As I see it, the main points now are these.

Regarding the bank account, Clayton does not appear to regard becoming a joint owner of an account holding the parents’ money as a mistake in itself. His regret relates primarily to the failure to tell us beforehand.

His explanation of his November statement about being a POD beneficiary has changed over time and now concerns the CDs at 3Rivers—a matter that can be verified objectively through bank records.

Substantial sums were returned only after we began questioning the earlier calculations. We still lack clear answers to two basic questions: how much money Clayton and Nana received from the parents in total over the years, and how those amounts were calculated.

Much of the essential property documentation was obtained only after repeated requests and the parents’ intervention.

Our most recent attempt to discuss the matter in person ended painfully, and the way that meeting ended has not subsequently been separately acknowledged, explained, or discussed.

Taken together, the sequence of events suggests that none of the principal corrections directly related to our concerns was initiated by Clayton and Nana before those concerns were raised. Each followed questions, persistent requests, or direct demands from other family members.

Is It Time to “Let It Go”?

I understand that this situation has become long and exhausting, and I sincerely appreciate the time you have spent trying to understand it. I also understand the question: does there come a point when it is time simply to “let it go” and move forward? But I want to explain why we have not done so before now.

Clayton himself has repeatedly urged us to “let it go.” In our conversations, however, those words have meant something quite specific: stop asking questions about the money, the bank account, and the documents; accept his apologies; and return to our former relationship. When forgiveness is demanded rather than requested, the conversation becomes a form of pressure. We kept asking questions and proposing meetings because we do not want to lose people who are close to us, and we still hope to restore our relationship. But if we now act as though nothing happened and every question has been answered, the things left unsaid will remain between us. We believe that such pretense would harm both us and Nana and Clayton: it would prevent trust and a sincere relationship from being restored, and it would affect us emotionally and spiritually. To us, “letting it go” does not mean pretending the problem has been resolved.

Our questions, meetings, and attempts to discuss what happened were not questions for their own sake. In many ways, it would have been much easier simply to step back. Continuing the conversations, returning to these subjects, and trying to understand what happened took considerably more time, effort, and emotional energy. We did so because each conversation still offered a chance to make things right: to explain openly what had happened, clear up misunderstandings, acknowledge responsibility where needed, and begin to rebuild trust and our relationship. For us, continuing these conversations was an attempt to preserve something we still believed was worth preserving, rather than an expression of hostility.

Perhaps there does come a point when further questions from us can no longer change anything. But simply ceasing to speak about a serious unresolved problem does not establish genuine peace. Sometimes the problem merely becomes quieter while remaining unresolved, and may later cause even greater harm to the person involved, the family, and others. That is why we kept trying for so long: we still hoped that something could be made right.