Will I, Won’t I?

Real Estate Deeds - check. Jewellery inventory - check. Bank Documents – check. House photo album - check. List of vehicles - check. Monogrammed stationery - check. Chequebook - check. Ballpoints galore - check. Iced coffee - check. Ritz Crackers - check. Spotify on - check.

Being of sound mind… that is my story, and I am sticking to it… I have decided to write this, My Last Will and Testament, which cancels all the others I have written so far.

I know, posthumously and humorously, that most of you gathered here are at loggerheads with one another. I ask you to recall the Will Reading Scene from Will & Grace, where Karen, bless her tinny voice, got to inherit loadsamoney.

You (I am looking at you, Jennifer) always said I was a control freak. Well, a will, together with life-time donations, is how one stays in control over who gets what.

I am not with you to answer your “why did you do it that way” questions, and anyway, it’s none of your business. This will is to make sure that there will be no “Mum said I could have this” stuff (I am looking at you, Kristina); because what I gave each of you, I wanted to give you. None of you will be able to pull wool over the eyes of the rest of you.

I know of cases where the next-of-kin who had Power of Attorney just so happened to inherit the bulk of the assets of the dear departed. (I am looking at you, Charlene.)

In these Covid-19 days, it was difficult for me to get two notaries public and two disinterested witnesses in my house at the same time; but as you can see, I pulled it off, by asking them to stand at the corners of The Great Hall, and providing them with megaphones, just in case one of you (I am looking at you, Laurence) would have protested at the use of cell-phones, saying the call must have been rigged, and disputed it...

So with this Will you have a self-proving affidavit.

I am making this will airtight. I trust my Executor (I am looking at you, William) because never in my life have I known him tell a lie, or be otherwise dishonest.

I am not going to explain unequal bequests – none of you worked for my money and possessions, so you have no call to decide who gets what, after my funeral and the inheritance taxes or succession duties, or whatever they are called when this is being read, have been paid.

This letter of instruction is an integral part of the My Last Will and Testament. It’s like when I used to edit and proof-read simultaneously, to save time and hassle. My idea is to make life easier for you all, and stop the squabbling before it begins. That is why I am including my Bank Account numbers and passwords and where to find the keys to the deposit boxes, on the last page.

I know (I am looking at you, Alessandra) that there might have been the temptation to touch-up, shall we say, the original will, because the “safe yet accessible” place was known to all. Yet, this document is the actual original one – the one in the metal box in the nightwear drawer was a decoy copy.

With this will, I declare that some of the beneficiaries are people who are unrelated to me – people who have touched my life in many ways, and who would have been deprived of what I want to give them (I am looking at you, Stacey) had I died intestate, with only a handwritten note to establish my wishes.

As the testator, I know I have been regarded as eccentric; but you have the evidence that this Will is valid, and not being written through coercion or fraud. My Notaries Public did actually make me remove some derogatory statements contained in my draft (I am looking at you, Fiona)… but that’s water under the bridge.

I have no debts.

Contesting my will (I am looking at you, Carlos) means that you will automatically be disinherited. So will anyone who shows aggro (I am looking at you, Doreen). What was due to you will be auctioned or sold, and the money therefrom will be given to the Charity of Choice of William. I do not want something as crass as a lottery between those who did not dispute the will. In a nutshell – woe betide drama llamas. 

Oh, and - by the way - when I was a teenager, I had a baby. (I am looking at you, Aimee). That is why you are present at this reading. So now you know why I always made it a point to come to your desk at the supermarket, and why I was so interested in the lives of your children, and why I was so happy to see you promoted to Manager. I would like you to know that you look exactly like your father. We couldn’t be together, and at the time, being a single parent was anathema. When you told me that you were adopted, but you didn’t want to search for your birth parents because it would hurt your Ma, I didn’t hold it against you. When she died and you said you look upon me as her substitute, but I wasn't old enough to be your actual mum, it broke my heart. I did not want to complicate things by telling you, then.

But let’s not digress. I have requested that each of you here be given a copy of this Testament.

I owe no one anything; not as the reference to debts, above, but, to reiterate, I made my own fortune, and it is my prerogative to choose how to distribute it. I know that you hate prosopopoeia (I am looking at you, Gerald) but My Last Will and Testament speaks of what I have accomplished through blood, sweat, and tears.

That having been said, William will now begin reading the pertinent sections of My Last Will and Testament, which I am sure you are all itching to hear…

To my firstborn, Aimee, I leave this mansion and everything in it, including the cars in the garage…