h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Well, it finally happened. I got proof.

Leading up to his death my Father had always promised that I was getting everything. When I say 'everything' there really wasn't a lot. His assets may have added up to $2000 in total if I was lucky.

During his last years he was living with his girlfriend (having left Mum about 17 years ago), who I quite liked.

One day I heard he was dying and dropped eveything to do the 6 hour drive to be at his side. I wished I could stay, but unfortunately life doesn''t stop. I stayed a few hours, then had the long drive home.

While I was there, talking to a nurse, he kept telling my wife that I was 'getting everything', as if it was important.

Three weeks later he died. I immediately set about organising the funeral. That is until a sneaking suspicion made me ask a crucial question: who were his posessions going to. The answer was : his girlfriend.

Now, I don't bear her any ill-will. She put up with him in the last years and damn well deserved whatever was left. I don't have a problem with that.

I also found it suspicious that the executor of his will was this girlfriend's daughter. I often wondered what happened in those three weeks. Did my Father have one of his famous tantrums and write me out of his will, or was he, in his weakened state, co-erced by said daughter?

I now have the answer.

A letter arrived along with a money order, and a copy of the will. I'll quote a single portion of it:

3.3 To my son, [doreiwolf], to be held in trust the sum of $1.00 so he can buy two postage stamps, or make one phone call to enquire about me after I'm dead.

That gave me all I needed to know. The phrasing, the words used all ring of my Father. He wasn't coerced. Instead he took his last opportunity ever to do something he'd been doing to me for most of my life: breaking promises.

The joke, however, is on him.

You see, if I'd got that even two months after he died I'd have been crushed, heartbroken and torn apart.

Now, however, I'm over him. My wife was worried about how I'd take the letter. She needn't have bothered. I laughed. In fact I found that, plus the 'guilt trip' letter written by the daughter to be incredbly funny. She's an amateur in the guilt stakes. I learned at the knee of my Grandmother who was a master at it.

My wife added to the humour. Instead of dumping the letter, will and money order for $1.00 into the paper recycling, she tore it up and put it straight in the bin, with all the other garbage.

Damn life is good!