Thinking about wills (thank you, Tim) reminded me of my mother’s. One of her quirks in later life was to tweak its details every so often. Only in minor ways, we found several former wills drawn up over a period of about five years and the main items were the same, but minor specific legacies to my sister and me were changed regularly – she’d left almost everything to us anyway, so there didn’t seem much point to this, but it evidently gave her some satisfaction. The final change was a bit odd. She left me her car, which she’d already given to me (before making the change), although I refused to accept the gift in case she became well enough to drive again, which she did, as it happened. She left Wink a portrait of herself (of Wink, that is) that Wink had always disliked and which she refused to take, so it’s now somewhere in our attic. The third stipulation was the odd one, though. She declared that everything in her house should be left exactly as it was – well, obviously she didn’t mean not to clear out the fridge. The furniture and everything.
Darlings, I’m normally a polite woman but this was a bit much. “She wants it kept as a shrine? For how long, forever? She didn’t even own the house!”
Actually, she’d much have preferred what actually happened, which was that Al moved in (having redecorated and removed much of the furniture) and he and his family still live there. She’d love that, far more than having all her things still there gathering dust nine years on.