Last month, my grandfather, with whom I shared a cherished connection, passed away. When the attorney presented his will, I was astonished to discover he had left everything to my sister—his vintage car, his savings, and his charming little home. She rarely spent time with him, and I couldn’t understand why he made that decision.
I approached her, inquiring if she’d be open to splitting the inheritance, as we were both his grandchildren, and I thought there might have been a mistake. She shook her head decisively and said, “I must honor Grandpa’s wishes.”
Weeks later, while putting on my old jacket, my fingers touched something in the pocket—a folded piece of paper. My heart raced when I saw Grandpa’s familiar handwriting. He must have placed it there during his final days, when I stayed by his side every moment.
With unsteady hands, I opened the note and read: “If you’re reading this, the lawyer has followed my instructions. The will they shared was temporary. The real one, signed and notarized, names you as the sole heir. I trust you’ll make a wise decision with it, even if that means sharing. You were always there for me.”
My hands trembled as I folded the note back. The next day, I rushed to the lawyer’s office. His eyes widened when I placed the note on his desk. After a brief pause, he opened a drawer, pulled out a sealed envelope, and handed it to me.
It was the true will. It named only me. Grandpa had entrusted me with everything—his cozy house, his classic car, and his savings. Attached was his note, reiterating that the decision to share with my sister was mine to make.
Now, I face a difficult choice. Part of me wants to respect Grandpa’s trust in me by keeping the inheritance as he intended, especially since my sister rarely made time for him. Yet another part of me fears that not sharing could leave me with lingering regret. The decision is mine, but it’s a responsibility I never expected to bear.
