I'm a superstitious girl. I don't walk on cracks or open umbrellas inside, and I always make a wish when the clock says 11:11. For me this is non-negotiable. But as I got older, I realized that some of my assumptions needed to be abandoned. In this case, literally, since I finally decided to make my last will and testament.
I'm over 50 and I know this won't be a problem for most people. But I've never been married or had children, so making a will never seemed like something I had to do. I didn't want to “jinx” my life, but I realized that after working for so many years to get the things I wanted, it seemed reasonable enough to want to ensure they would go to a good place when I was no longer around.
I admit, I put this task off for a while. Apparently, I'm not alone. A 2020 Gallup poll found that less than half of adults in the United States have a will. I know I was afraid to do this because it would mean I would accept my own mortality. I'm glad I recently came to my senses.
Let's understand the process
After some research I learned that as a teacher I have the right to free will training service. I contacted the legal agency listed in my benefits package and they sent me a large stack of papers in a padded envelope to read. They sat in my apartment untouched for months.
During this time, family, friends and people I grew up with died. Some are young, some are old, some are expected, some are pure tragedy. I began to realize that there would never be a good time to fill out the paperwork, but eventually I felt like I needed to do it.
I started reading the documents and realized that the process was much less complicated than I thought. I had brothers and sisters who could act as executors, and I had relatives to whom I could leave my meager inheritance, but I wanted to go even further. I wanted it too give to others.
The author decided to leave some of her property to the ASPCA. Courtesy of Elana Rabinovich
I find a place where I can leave my money
I remembered a woman from my house who was working to raise funds for the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA). One day when we were talking, she casually mentioned that the bulk of her donations came from people who had left part of their property non-profit organization of your choice. I decided to do the same. I loved my cats more than I could ever imagine, and the thought of helping other animals while they waited for their forever homes filled me with joy.
I called law firm number and made an appointment to work on my will. The idea still scared me, but I realized the beauty of passing things on to others.
I headed to the firm's office in downtown Brooklyn. It was a pure old school aesthetic, with folders strewn from every corner. The leather chairs were worn and scuffed, but the people were warm and nice. The lawyer came out and patiently explained everything to me. When he talked about my proposed donation to the ASPCA, we talked a little about my own cats, which helped me feel comfortable.
In what seemed like just a few minutes, I had the paperwork signed and initialized and took home a free pen. It was different, to a degree that I couldn't understand. When you're growing up and have a significant birthday or holiday, there's that feeling where you're so excited and feel so alive. It was kind of the same feeling, but on the other side.
Doing my will made me feel empowered
Part of me was already remembering my life, and for a moment I wondered what the world might be like when I was gone. I felt relieved to know that the people I love would be able to enjoy some of the physical things I care about, and I smiled thinking about the animals and their future owners and how my donation would help bring them together. And then I exhaled.
After all, preparing a will was not about dying, it was about finding ways to live, love, and share the will with those who needed it. Isn't this how life should always be?
