WIBTA if I don’t “share” the inheritance that I received from a friend with her daughter?
Inheritance should gleam with memory, but for this 32-year-old woman, it’s a tangle of trust and turmoil. Valorie, her 68-year-old neighbor and confidante, left her everything—condo, cash, all—after a balcony bond over plants. Enter Sam, Valorie’s 44-year-old daughter, estranged since her teens over her sexuality. Sam’s demanding a share; she’s torn—keep it or cut her in?
Picture Saturday mornings, pots blooming—Valorie’s tales of regret over Sam’s exile spilling out. A Facebook olive branch went unread; now Valorie’s gone, and Sam’s knocking. Lawyer says it’s hers, but guilt gnaws—let’s sift this bequest’s roots and weigh the leaves.
‘WIBTA if I don’t “share” the inheritance that I received from a friend with her daughter?’
Wills whisper intent—clear ‘til contested. This woman’s windfall from Valorie, a friend who mourned her silence with Sam, pits law against longing. Sam’s claim stirs doubt—would sharing heal or harm? Let’s dig in.
She’s caught: Valorie’s gift honors their tie, yet Sam’s scars scream neglect. A message sent, ignored—Valorie’s regret didn’t rewrite her will. Sam’s fury flags opportunism, but her pain’s real. Legal? Hers. Moral? Murky. Valorie’s choice snubs Sam anew—or does it?
This tills an estate ethic: duty vs. desire. A 2023 American Bar Association report says 20% of wills spark family feuds, often estrangement’s echo (source). Expert Dr. Pauline Boss muses, “Loss leaves debts—money’s not the only mend” (source). Valorie’s lapse lingers.
Boss’s root fits: she’s NTA—law’s hers, intent’s Valorie’s. But a gesture—mementos, maybe more—might soften Sam’s soil. Advice: weigh need, offer tokens, hold firm. Readers, what’s your graft—her keep, or too cold?
These are the responses from Reddit users:
Reddit’s murmurs rustled a thorny bouquet of thought. Many tucked her in tight—Valorie’s will was her wish, they sighed, Sam’s silence her own snip, not this gal’s to mend. Some eyed Valorie’s shade—decades of drift, a lone note too late—yet draped her in NTA, a friend’s right to reap. Others wove a softer thread—give Sam trinkets, ease her ache—while a few bristled sharp: Sam’s due, Valorie’s spite taints the take. The hum swayed gentle: she’s no heel, but Sam’s hurt hums beneath.
This legacy’s no light leaf—it’s a gnarled graft of grief and gain, where a friend’s bequest met a daughter’s void. Valorie’s will crowns her, Sam’s plea claws back—keep it all, or share a sprig? Was clinging too crisp, a hoard where heart might’ve halved? Or does Sam’s late claim wilt her right to reap?
She ponders, they press—roots rift. What do you spy—did she clutch too close, or Sam call too coy? How would you tend this inheritance tangle? Spill your shoots, your own tales of will’s weeds, below—let’s prune this poignant patch together!
