When our parents passed away, my brother Aaron revealed his true materialistic nature. We inherited two houses: the new house where our parents lived during their final years and our run-down childhood home.
While Aaron wanted to sell the old house, I, Ian, decided to renovate it, fulfilling our father’s wish to restore it.“Come on, Ian, we can do so much more with the money,” Aaron urged. But the house held sentimental value, and I couldn’t let it go.
Laura, my wife, and I began the arduous task of renovating it. One day, while stripping wallpaper, I discovered a note from my father. It instructed us to dig under the old oak tree in the garden.
Intrigued, Laura and I unearthed a weathered box containing a stack of papers. These revealed a savings account set aside by my father for the house’s restoration and a deed to a seaside house for whoever honored his wish.
We decided to tell Aaron, anticipating his reaction. As expected, he was furious. “Why should you get everything just because you kept the old dump?” he shouted. “It’s about honoring Dad’s legacy,” I explained, trying to stay calm.
