to my nephew Joe, I leave...
A long time ago in a galaxy far away, my great aunt died. She made my uncle the executor of her will, and he did all the things she asked him to do in her will....and caught hell for it. It caused rifts that exist to this day.
When all this went down, I felt sorry for my uncle...maybe because I really like the guy and hated seeing his brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews, family dogs and second cousins twice removed turn on him, all because he did what was asked of him. There was a lot of, "Well, you know she didn't really mean that." and "You know she really wanted me to have..." No, he didn't know and no, it wasn't written that way. Nobody blamed her, of course. They blamed my uncle.
So you're asking yourself...why John? Why would you pick now to bring this up?
I was talking to my mom last night...assuring myself that the remainder of the trip home went OK, when she told me about a wedding they were going to...and my uncle isn't attending. He isn't attending because the ex-wife of one of his nephews is the mother of the groom, and she laid into him in this galaxy far away because he sold his mother's house (after she died) to this woman's husband...back when they were married. This woman was offended and thought he should have given the house to them.
So here we are, a good fifteen years later and my uncle won't go to his great nephew's wedding, and the sole reason is because the kid's mom thought she was somehow entitled to a house that was given to him, and he doesn't want to run into her at her son's wedding.
There is nothing in my parents' house I'm entitled to...nothing. That includes the house itself and any proceeds from its hypothetical sale. If, through their generosity, when they pass away, they choose to give me something/anything, that's their business. I don't care if I gave something to them at some point in their life, or because there are X members in our family, I "deserve" 1/X portion of what they have...none of that matters and none of it is mine...unless they decide to give it to me. If we reach some agreement that when they pass away, I will get the lampshade, that's fine....as long as that's what the will says, but until it all goes down and it is written, "John of the Lumberyard gets the lampshade," it ain't mine. I also don't want to hear the, "I took care of them/spent time with them/washed their car/fed their dog/waxed their floors/wiped their ass when they were old" argument. You do that because they're your family. You don't do that for some perceived death benefit. That thought just about makes me wretch. When someone dies, they decide what happens to all their stuff. I don't, and nobody else does.
I guess the sense of entitlement really is the underlying thing that bothers me, and the rift...the rift that is still there fifteen years later...that sense of entitlement causes. When family members can't speak to each other, and the sole reason is people think they deserve things they did nothing to earn, that's sad.
When all this went down, I felt sorry for my uncle...maybe because I really like the guy and hated seeing his brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews, family dogs and second cousins twice removed turn on him, all because he did what was asked of him. There was a lot of, "Well, you know she didn't really mean that." and "You know she really wanted me to have..." No, he didn't know and no, it wasn't written that way. Nobody blamed her, of course. They blamed my uncle.
So you're asking yourself...why John? Why would you pick now to bring this up?
I was talking to my mom last night...assuring myself that the remainder of the trip home went OK, when she told me about a wedding they were going to...and my uncle isn't attending. He isn't attending because the ex-wife of one of his nephews is the mother of the groom, and she laid into him in this galaxy far away because he sold his mother's house (after she died) to this woman's husband...back when they were married. This woman was offended and thought he should have given the house to them.
So here we are, a good fifteen years later and my uncle won't go to his great nephew's wedding, and the sole reason is because the kid's mom thought she was somehow entitled to a house that was given to him, and he doesn't want to run into her at her son's wedding.
There is nothing in my parents' house I'm entitled to...nothing. That includes the house itself and any proceeds from its hypothetical sale. If, through their generosity, when they pass away, they choose to give me something/anything, that's their business. I don't care if I gave something to them at some point in their life, or because there are X members in our family, I "deserve" 1/X portion of what they have...none of that matters and none of it is mine...unless they decide to give it to me. If we reach some agreement that when they pass away, I will get the lampshade, that's fine....as long as that's what the will says, but until it all goes down and it is written, "John of the Lumberyard gets the lampshade," it ain't mine. I also don't want to hear the, "I took care of them/spent time with them/washed their car/fed their dog/waxed their floors/wiped their ass when they were old" argument. You do that because they're your family. You don't do that for some perceived death benefit. That thought just about makes me wretch. When someone dies, they decide what happens to all their stuff. I don't, and nobody else does.
I guess the sense of entitlement really is the underlying thing that bothers me, and the rift...the rift that is still there fifteen years later...that sense of entitlement causes. When family members can't speak to each other, and the sole reason is people think they deserve things they did nothing to earn, that's sad.
Labels: Family Stuff
John put this out here at 10:28 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home