Recently my mom wrote her will. I should actually say that she finally wrote her will after almost 5 years of my chasing her to do so. I wanted to have some legal certainty in what her wishes were in case of her death, and for there not to be a massive family shitstorm.
So during the phone conversation where she told me what it contained she mentioned that I’m to have all her jewelery. You’d think I’d be overjoyed. And I am, though not for the reasons you might expect.
I am of course delighted that my grand-aunts wedding ring will come to me, and not end up dropping into the familial aether. She was more my grandmother than anyone else, and her husband is in many ways who I compare all men to (if you knew him you’d understand why so few ever match up), and I love the idea of having a solid piece of that part of her life in my possession to remember them both by. It also turns out that my mom is delighted that I want it, she’d worried that I wouldn’t want it at all. Silly Mom!
It also of course clears up her wishes about the family home, the disposal of her corpse, and all the rest.
But even though I was the one chasing her to do this, I hate it. I hate that she has a will because it makes me acknowledge that one of these days my mom will die. Mom is 60 now, almost 61. And she’s a very young 60. My Partner in Crime’s granddaughter actually refuses to believe that she is my mom because she’s too young. But like the rest of us she’s not getting any younger, and I don’t have to like that.
During the early years of our time together, I helped my PiC to get over the loss of both of her parents. I saw what it did to her. I’ve buried a lot of friends, and a lot of family over the years. I have a pretty good idea of what losing my mom will do to me. And the knowledge that she has her Will made out only drives that I won’t always have her more forcefully home to me.
So yeah, I’m very glad she has a Will. To me like voting, having an airtight Will is just common sense, and a duty to both yourself everyone around you. But I don’t have to like it, or what it means for one to exist.