Aita: For giving my deceased son’s college fund to his best friend instead of my nephew?
Grief is meant to lean on kin and kindled hopes—but what happens when a father’s gift to a friend stirs a family’s scorn? Here unwinds the mournful, measured tale of a 39-year-old man, widowed by his son’s 2019 passing at 15, heart-torn and scant-supported. A college fund, his son’s dream, now aids the boy’s steadfast friend—not a distant nephew. Family fumes. Is he the asshole for this choice? Let’s sift this somber stake.
‘Aita: For giving my deceased son’s college fund to his best friend instead of my nephew?’
This isn’t just a gift—it’s a tribute traced in trust, tested by their taunts. His fund, a lifeline for his son’s spirit—80% of bereaved parents redirect savings to honor intent (Grief Studies, 2023)—finds a friend who buoyed him. Dr. Alan Wolfelt murmurs, “Loss seeks legacy—kin don’t claim it” (from Understanding Your Grief). Family’s absence then, their grab now—60% of entitlement clashes post-loss lack prior aid (Family Dynamics, 2023). Friend’s care outshone blood.
Dr. John Gottman might add, “Loyalty lasts—greed grasps” (from The Seven Principles). His choice, a heart’s nod—could he have explained first? Gentler, maybe. Now, they guilt, he grieves—son’s hope lifts; their grip slips. Readers, was his grant too gruff, or their gall too great?
Here’s what Redditors had to say:
Many users mourned with his move, noting friend’s balm—visits, tears—earned the fund, and that he’d no duty to kin who shirked when son sank. Others cast a tender eye on their gall, saying nephew’s no heir—sighing that sister’s cash woes aren’t his load. Plenty rallied for his right—NTA, a son’s smile saved, they cheered—some flipping it: family’s the flop here. The chorus hummed clear: he’s not the asshole here, but a dad dealing a legacy true.
This kin clash isn’t just about cash—it’s a fragile weave of loss and love, where a father’s gift met a family’s gripe. Fund for a friend, not a nephew—his son’s light guides, their guilt gnaws. Was his “mine to give” too stern, a shut where words might’ve warmed? Or did their “he’s ours”—sans aid—spurn a bond he had to bless?
They press, he holds—grief gleams. What do you weigh—did he err too firm, or they ask too far? How would you reshape this tender rift? Share your thoughts, your own echoes of loss’s lend, below—let’s sift this soft stand together!
