My grandmother’s passing was a heavy blow, but nothing could prepare me for the turmoil caused by Mrs. Jenkins, her demanding neighbor. After refusing her bizarre request to see my grandma’s will, she staged a relentless standoff on my porch, leaving me to confront her audacity head-on.
My grandma recently passed away. While feeling devastated after losing her, I also had to face this drama caused by my grandma’s next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins.
Before jumping to that part of the story, let me explain what happened. It all started when my grandma was diagnosed with cancer. She chose not to get treatment.
She’d seen my grandpa suffer through chemo and didn’t want that for herself. It was difficult for us to accept her wish, but we somehow decided to let her do what she wanted. If she didn’t want to undergo treatment, she wouldn’t.
Over the next year, she started giving away her things. One day, she called all three of her children and their families to her place and asked everyone to make a list of the items they wanted. “Here’s an open invitation for y’all,” she said.
“You can choose anything you want from my house and take it home. Just hand me a list of the items you like, okay?”
Although it seemed like the golden opportunity to grab whatever we wanted from her house, we couldn’t do that. There were some rules.
Certain family heirlooms were meant for specific relatives. We all knew which items those were and who they were going to. That was the last time we all saw her happily chatting with everyone.
A few weeks later, she passed away in her sleep peacefully. We all felt sad after she left us, but hey, she got reunited with Grandpa, right? After she passed away, everything regarding her will was settled pretty easily.
My grandma was an intelligent woman, and she knew how to manage everything on her own. According to her will, she left her house to my dad, while his siblings got cash, jewelry, and other precious items. Dad was so excited to move into that house because it was the same place he had spent his entire childhood.
“Every room reminds me of the good times we spent there,” he would say. “I’ll redecorate the house and make it look exactly what it used to look like four decades ago.”
Sadly, fate didn’t give him a chance to execute his plans. Just two weeks after my grandma’s death, my father also passed away.
It was so sudden. I mean, one day he was completely fine, and the next day he didn’t open his eyes in the morning. My dad’s death was a shock to all of us.
After his funeral, his lawyer called me to his office. “Jacqueline, since you’re Mr. Parker’s only child, he left everything to you,” the lawyer said.
“Including the house he inherited from your grandmother two weeks ago.”
I wasn’t expecting that. The next thirty minutes went by as the lawyer explained what my next steps would be. I think he already knew I had zero knowledge about the legal side of things, that’s why he was willing to help me with everything.
A month later, I was sliding boxes inside Grandma’s house, setting up the wardrobes and the kitchen cabinets. I had finally moved into the same house Dad wanted to live in. It took me a few days to settle in, surrounded by memories of both my grandmother and father.
At that point, I thought everything was sorted, but boy was I wrong. The day after I finished unpacking, a loud knock on the door made me nearly jump out of my skin. “Coming!” I said as I wiped my hands using the towel lying on the kitchen island.
Standing on my porch with her arms crossed was my grandma’s neighbor. My grandma always called her “that entitled lady,” and soon enough, I was about to call her the same. “Hi,” I said.
“Who are you?” she asked me without any greetings. “I’m Jacqueline, and you?”
I knew who she was. She was Mrs.
Jenkins, the lady with two annoying grandchildren. “I assume you’re Maureen’s granddaughter. Your grandma promised me something,” she said.
“Oh, really?” I asked. I was genuinely surprised. “I actually wanted to see the will,” she said.
“The will? It only included family members, Mrs. Jenkins,” I told her.
“Your grandma loved my grandkids like her own, you know,” she began. “I just wanted to see the will to know if they’re going to get anything.”
I nearly choked. Grandma used to complain about those kids all the time.
They’d come over uninvited, use her water to fill their pool, and even call her ‘Grandma’ despite her telling them not to. Mrs. Jenkins had the nerve to ask if her grandkids could go through the house and take what they wanted as keepsakes.
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Mrs. Jenkins,” I said, trying to keep my cool, “my grandma died four weeks ago.
And I lost my dad just two weeks ago. This isn’t the best time.”
“My grandkids had their hearts set on some family heirlooms,” she huffed. “How long am I supposed to wait for our share of the inheritance?!
They’re coming over, and I want them to get their part before they leave!”
I was baffled. Why couldn’t she understand the fact that Grandma didn’t leave anything to her grandkids? How was I supposed to make her understand?
I thought I was being nice when I offered to let them look through the boxes I’d packed for donation. But oh boy, was she offended! You’d think I’d insulted her entire family tree.
“Donation boxes?! Your grandma was like family to us! We had to be mentioned in the will!
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