I’m not married and don’t have children. I still have a will specifying where my money should go.

• I’m in my 50s, have no children, and have never been married, so making a will was never a priority.
• After some family and friends died, I started to reconsider the value of a last will and testament.
• The process was easier than I expected, and it has helped me feel more in control and empowered.

I’m a superstitious lass. I don’t walk on cracks or open umbrellas inside, and I always make a wish when the clock reads 11:11. These are non-negotiables for me. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that some of my spersitions need to be laid to rest. In this case, quite literally, as I finally decided to make my last will and testament.

I’m in my 50s and know this would be a no-brainer for most people. But I never 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 so many years to obtain the things I wanted, it seemed rational enough to want to ensure that they go to a good place when I am no longer around.

I admittedly put this task off for a while. Apparently, I am not alone. A 2020 Gallup poll found that fewer than half of adults in the US have a will. I know that I feared making one, because it meant I’d be accepting my own mortality. I’m glad I’ve recently come around, though.

Figuring out the process

After some research, I learned that as a teacher, I am eligible for a free will preparation service. I contacted the legal agency listed in my benefit package, and they sent me a large stack of papers to read in a padded envelope. They sat in my apartment for months, untouched.

In that time, family, friends, and people I grew up with died. Some young, some old, some expected, some pure tragedy. I began to accept that there would never be a good time to fill out the paperwork, but I finally felt that I needed to do it.

I began to read through the papers and realized the process was far less complicated than I thought it would be. I had siblings who could serve as executors, and I had relatives to whom I could leave my meager inheritance, but I wanted to go one step further. I also wanted to give to others.

Discovering a place to leave my money to

I remembered a woman in my building who worked as a fundraiser for the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA). While we were speaking one day, she casually mentioned that the bulk of her donations came from people who left a portion of their estate to the nonprofit in their wills. I decided to do the same. I loved my cats more than I could imagine, and the thought of helping other animals while they waited to find their forever homes filled me with joy.

I called the legal firm’s number and made an appointment to work on my will. The idea still frightened me, but I had come to realize the beauty of passing on things to others.

I headed to the firm’s office in downtown Brooklyn. It was pure old school aesthetics, with manila files piling out of every corner. The leather chairs were worn and frayed, but the people were warm and lovely. A lawyer came out and patiently explained everything to me. When he brought up my intended donation to the ASPCA, we talked about my own cats for a little bit, which helped me feel comfortable.

Within what seemed like only minutes, I signed and initialized the documents and took my complimentary pen home. It felt different in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. There’s a feeling you have when you’re growing up and have a landmark birthday or celebration, and you’re so excited and feel so alive. This was sort of the same feeling, but at the other end.

Making my will made me feel empowered

A part of me was already reminiscing about my life so far, and for a moment, I thought about what the world might be like when I was gone. I felt relieved knowing that people I loved would be able to enjoy some of the physical possessions I held dearly, and I smiled, thinking about the animals and their future owners and how my donation would help bring them together. And then I exhaled.

In the end, preparing a will was not about dying, but about finding ways to live, to love, and to share it with those who needed it. Isn’t that what life should always be?