After losing my wife, I stayed silent about the second house and the $480,000 she left me. a week later, my son told me to get ready to leave. he didnβt know I had already prepared for something very different…..
The funeral flowers had only just begun to fade when the calls started. Two weeks after we buried Helen, I was in my kitchen when the phone rang.
βDad, we need to talk about the house.β My son Markβs voice carried the impatient tone of a teenager asking for money. Only now, at 38, he wasnβt asking.
βGood morning to you, too, Mark.β
βDad, let’s be strategic,β he said, ignoring me. βThe house is an underperforming asset. Selling now is the only logical move. We’ve already had it appraised.β
βThere is no mortgage,β I said, a fact Iβd never shared with them.
He scoffed. βDad, please. We know youβre under strain. The money from the sale could help with Emilyβs tuition, andβ¦β
I stopped listening. I could picture him, sitting before a spreadsheet labeled: Dadβs House Sale, Proceeds, Split.
The next call came moments later. My daughter, Laura.
βDad,β she began, her voice syrupy sweet. βThink of it! You’d be right here with us, in our finished basement. And we could use the equity toβ¦ reinvest in the family. Itβs about securing all our futures. A win-win!β
βLaura,β I said, βwhen was the last time you called me to talk about something other than money?β
βThatβs not fair,β she protested.
βItβs been two months.β
I hung up. I stood in the hallway, staring at Helenβs reading glasses, still folded neatly on a paperback sheβd never finish. My feet carried me to her study. The room still smelled of her perfume.
I pulled open the bottom desk drawer and my fingers found a pale blue folder. On the front, a yellow sticky note in Helenβs neat handwriting: If youβre reading this, you need to know whatβs inside….. Watch: [in comment] – Made with AI