To Spend Or To Bequeath?

When my paternal grandmother Throcky furtively asked me if she should spend down her small life savings or hold some back for her heir, I saw the conflicted, unpleasant emotions in her face and I tried very hard not to be disappointed in her. This brief conversation was not over supper or tea, not an old woman and a middle-aged woman seated comfortably in a living room talking heart-to-heart. No, it was her bony clutch at my elbow to stop me in a dark hallway for a shameful whisper, "Hey you, what do you think I should do? I have a little more than I need to live out my life, so what should I do, spend my money to suit myself, down to just what I need, or keep some back for my heir?"

I noted the "heir" singular and I again felt sorry for my younger brother to be left out because I knew that he was very fond of her, but my grandmother had already told me that my younger sister was to be her heir. She had spoken so vehemently that I did not ask her why she had chosen just one heir. I was embarrassed because I had no ill will toward my grandmother, and I had never behaved badly toward her, never. In fact, I loved her. It saddened me because as an unmarried woman with uncertain finances and as her eldest grandchild I might reasonably have hoped for some inheritance gesture from her. I did not yet know that my mother had befouled my relationship with my paternal grandmother, in fact with most/all of my relatives, by surreptitiously telling everyone that that I was not my father's child ... but that is a story for another day.

So I plucked up my dignity and calmly told my paternal grandmother that as my younger sister was married with children and financially secure, my grandmother should make herself happy. If she wanted to spend, by all means do so. Estimate how many more years she thought that she would live, multiply that by how much it cost to live each year, subtract that from her savings, and spend the balance. My grandmother seemed pleased with this advise. I did not know, nor did I care if this is what she did. It was none of my business.

All I know is that when my paternal grandmother passed I was required by her attorney to attending the reading of her will, but I was sat down in the lobby while my parents went into the lawyer's office. After a while my red-faced mother stormed out into the lobby, handed me a single, middle page of the will and a pen, and said sharply, "Sign here, I said sign here, now." There was never any arguing with my mother, she was not above striking me in public (although strangely no one ever commented on her behavior), so I signed, and I was given a single dollar bill which that middle page had designated was to be my inheritance. When I asked to read the other pages of the will, which was obviously what the $1.00 inheritance was intended to force my parents to provide, I was refused.

My Grandmother asked me if she should spend or bequeath her savings.