So, I never imagined my own kid would drag me through the courts like this. After my husband, Michael, passed last year, his will was crystal clearour house in Manchester, the savings, all the investments, everything was to stay with me until Im gone. Only then would our son, Oliver, inherit it. Michael wanted to make sure I was looked after in my later yearsthat was always his biggest worry. Whod have thought that same bit of care would end up splitting us apart?
Oliver had always been a decent lad, but after his dad died, something shifted. He quit his job at the bank, said he wanted to reinvent himself, and when I didnt just hand over a chunk of my pension to bankroll his new café idea, he got proper bitter about it.
One night, he came round and said, Mum, that moneys rightfully mine. Dad meant for me to have it. I tried to explain gentlythat wasnt how it worked, not yet. His dad wanted him to stand on his own two feet first, learn the value of things.
But Oliver wouldnt have it. Said I was being tight, clinging to what was his. Next thing I knew, I was holding court papersmy own son taking me to court over inheritance. I sat at the kitchen table, hands shaking so bad I could barely make out the words. Cried myself to sleep that night, proper sobbed till I was dry.
The courtroom was freezingnot just the air, but the silence between us. When Oliver walked in, he wouldnt even glance my way. All I could think about was when he was little, how hed grab my hand in busy places, how chuffed his dad was whenever he aced something. Now? We were stood on opposite sides like wed never even met.
He argued I didnt need the money, that hed put it to better use. When it was my turn, my voice cracked. All I could say was that I loved my boy, that this wasnt about being greedyit was about respecting his dads last wishes.
Then the judge spoke, and the room went dead quiet. The will is unambiguous, he said. Mrs. Whitaker retains the estate until her passing. Only then does it transfer to her son.
But then he looked at us both, voice gentler. What youve lost here isnt just a legal matter. Youre losing each other.
That hit me like a ton of bricks. I turned to Oliverhis shoulders were shaking, tears rolling down his face. Im sorry, Mum, he choked out.
I stood and reached for him, and suddenly, the courtroom didnt matter. It was just usmother and sonholding on, hoping we hadnt left it too late to mend things.
