Please—don’t wait until it’s too late.
We never think about how important it is to have an updated will—until the moment when everything unravels and we’re left trying to make sense of legal documents in the middle of overwhelming grief.
On June 1, 2021, my mom called to say she was having trouble breathing and was heading to the ER. The next day, she pulled me aside and said, “Do you remember the red folder? It’s in the white cabinet.” Of course, I did. That red folder and white cabinet were part of our family language. Then she said something I’ll never forget: “They don’t think I’ll make it through the night… but you and your brother will be okay. The red folder has everything you need. Just remember the red folder.”
Two heartbreaking weeks later, my mom, Paula, died of cancer. My brother and I became adult orphans in our thirties. Our dad had died suddenly in 2017. So… what now? We grabbed the red folder.
But the red folder couldn’t help us. Not really. Because it turned out my mom never updated her will after our dad died. He was still listed as the beneficiary. Their wills hadn’t been changed since 2015—when they still lived in Vermont. Now we are living in North Carolina. And we were stuck.
At the funeral home, the director said, “You’ll need to make an appointment with the Wake County Estates Division to probate the will.” I thought, I’m her daughter, her next of kin—why do I have to prove anything? But I went to the website. The earliest appointment was six weeks out. The auto-reply said I’d need all the correct forms, but they couldn’t help me with legal advice. Eight attachments, hundreds of pages. I sat at my kitchen table, completely overwhelmed, and sobbed.
When we finally had our appointment, I handed the clerk the mountain of paperwork. She looked at it and said, “Hmm, her will is from Vermont? You’ll need more paperwork.” More paperwork? I had bills to pay. A car to sell. Insurance policies to access. Funeral costs. I needed help. Instead, I got more forms.
That day, through tears, the clerk gently said, “Take a deep breath. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this.” She handed me more forms with instructions—our parents’ Vermont lawyers had to verify the signatures and notarizations. It took four months just to get the legal right to act on my mother’s behalf. And four years later, her estate still isn’t fully settled.
That experience changed everything. I immediately contacted an estate lawyer and created my own will. My lawyer recommends updating it every two years. But here’s the truth: that costs money. And not everyone can afford to do what should be a basic, essential part of preparing for the future.
August is National Make-a-Will Month.
In North Carolina, even a handwritten note with your wishes can be considered valid. It doesn’t have to be perfect. But it has to be something.
Please—learn from my story. Take the time. Write down your wishes. Create or update your will. Talk to your loved ones. Consider leaving a legacy to a cause you care about, like Muddy Sneakers. And please, don’t leave your family with the added burden of trying to figure everything out through a fog of grief.
You never know what tomorrow might bring.
But today—you can act and update or create your will this National Make a Will month.
-Casey Therrien, Director of Development