Unexpected Encounter: Neighbor’s Persistent Request for My Grandma’s Will Leads to Standoff

Old Lady Living Next Door Demanded to See My Grandma’s Will – After I Said ‘No,’ She Refused to Leave My Porch

While the loss of my grandmother was devastating, nothing could have prepared me for the upheaval brought on by her demanding neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins. She staged a continuous standoff on my doorstep after I turned down her strange request to view my grandma’s will, so I had to tackle her outrageous request head-on.

My grandmother died not too long ago. I was devastated to lose her, but I also had to deal with the turmoil that Mrs. Jenkins, my grandma’s next-door neighbor, had brought about. Let me clarify what happened before moving on to that section of the story.

It all began when my grandmother received a cancer diagnosis. She declined medical intervention. She didn’t want to go through chemotherapy because she’d seen my grandpa go through it.

Even though it was tough for us to grant her request, we ultimately chose to let her have her way. She would not receive treatment if she didn’t want to.

Over the following year, she began to part with her belongings. She encouraged everyone to write a list of the things they desired when she invited her three children and their families over to her house one day.

“Here’s an open invitation for y’all,” she stated. “You are free to select anything you want and bring it home from my place. Please just give me a list of the products you enjoy.

We were unable to take advantage of what appeared to be a fantastic opportunity to take anything we wanted from her residence. A few rules applied. Some family heirlooms belonged to particular relatives. We were all aware of the items and their intended recipients.

We all saw her smiling and interacting with everyone for the last time at that point.

She died quietly in her sleep a few weeks later. After she went, we were all sad, but at least she was reunited with Grandpa, right?

Everything pertaining to her will was settled rather smoothly after her death. My grandmother was a sharp woman who could take care of everything by herself.

Her will said that my dad would get her house, while his siblings would receive money, jewelry, and other valuables.

Dad had spent all of his boyhood in that house, which is why he was so happy to move there.

“Every room reminds me of the good times we spent there,” he’d say. “I’ll redecorate the house and make it look exactly what it used to look like four decades ago.”

Sadly, he was prevented from carrying out his goals by fate.

After my grandma died, my father also died within two weeks.

It happened so quickly. He was totally fine one day and didn’t open his eyes in the morning the following.

We were all shocked to learn of my dad’s death. His attorney summoned me to his office following his funeral.

“Jacqueline, since you’re Mr. Parker’s only child, he left everything for you,” explained the attorney. “Including the house he inherited from your grandmother two weeks ago.”

That was not what I expected. The lawyer spent the next thirty minutes outlining my next course of action.

I believe he was aware of my lack of legal expertise, which is why he offered to assist me with everything.

A month later, I was arranging the kitchen cabinets and wardrobes inside Grandma’s home by sliding boxes. At last, my dad and I had moved into the same house. It took me several days to get used to being surrounded by recollections of my father and grandmother. I believed everything was resolved at that time, but boy was I mistaken.

I almost sprang out of my skin when I heard a loud knock on the door the day after I had done unpacking.

“Coming!” As I used the towel that was on the kitchen island to wipe my hands, I said.

My grandma’s neighbor was standing with her arms crossed on my porch. She was constantly referred to by my granny as “that entitled lady,” and I was going to do the same.

“Hello,” I said.

She said to me, “Who are you?” without saying hello.

“I’m Jacqueline, and you?”

I was aware of her identity. Mrs. Jenkins, the woman with the two obnoxious grandchildren, was her name.

You must be Maureen’s granddaughter, I suppose. She added, ‘Your grandma promised me something.

“Oh, really?” I enquired. Sincerely, I was taken aback.

She admitted, “I really wanted to see the will.”

“The intention? Mrs. Jenkins, it was only family members,” I informed her.

“Your grandma loved my grandkids like her own, you know,” she said. “I just wanted to see the will to know if they’re going to get anything.”

I almost choked on something. Grandma used to always be whining about those kids. She would tell them not to call her “Grandma,” but they would still come over without permission and take her water to fill their pool.

With bravery, Mrs. Jenkins inquired if her grandchildren might search the house and take mementos of their choosing. My ears were unbelievable to me.

Trying not to lose my temper, I said, “Mrs. Jenkins, my granny passed away four weeks ago. And only two weeks ago, my dad passed away. This is not the ideal moment.

“My grandkids had their hearts set on some family heirlooms,” she gasped. “How much longer must I wait to receive our portion of the estate? I want them to claim their share of the inheritance before they depart since they are coming over.”

I couldn’t understand. Why was it beyond her comprehension that Grandma left nothing for her grandchildren? How was I going to explain this to her?

When I volunteered to let them browse the boxes I’d packed for donation, I felt like I was being considerate. But boy, did she take offense! You would believe that I had offended her entire family.

“Donation boxes? To us, your grandmother was like family. The will had to include a reference of us. Please give it to me! I must observe for myself.

At that moment, I was so frustrated that I told myself to take a deep breath. I was aware that this woman and her grandchildren were merely our next-door neighbors and had never done anything particularly kind for my grandma.

I finally told her “no” multiple times before closing the door in her face. Mrs. Jenkins was not done, though.

She said that I was lying about the will and would not get off my porch. She was sure that something had been left by grandmother for her and her grandchildren.

She continued to peep through the windows for around thirty minutes. I was starting to lose it. Then it dawned on me. This woman ought to be included in all of the family’s problems if she believed herself to be a member of the family, isn’t that right?

I just grabbed a pen and some scrap paper, and I began to write. After finishing, I returned to the door.

“Mrs. Jenkins,” I murmured. She turned, presumably believing that I had changed my mind.

I gave the paper to her. “Here, if you truly are a part of the family, help ‘your’ family out, and then we can talk.”

When she saw what I’d written, her eyes almost fell out of her head. It was a bill for her portion of the funeral arrangements, attorney fees, and medical bills for her grandmother. Given that grandma had been ill for some time and that funerals are expensive, the number was somewhat large.

Mrs. Jenkins looked stunned. She stammered, “This is crazy!”

I gave a shrug. “Irrational? Mrs. Jenkins, my grandma passed away from cancer. You would be aware of the hefty cost of the funeral and medical care. You were really close to her, after all.”

She gave off the tantrum of a toddler and pounded her foot. “This is really crazy! “You would make your grandmother ashamed!”

The final straw was that. I’d had enough of her conceit and disregard for the sorrow in my family.

“Mrs. Jenkins,” I remarked in a firm yet low voice. “You would make my granny feel ashamed. For years, she tolerated your foolishness out of courtesy, but she never thought of you as family. I’m going to ask you to leave my land one last time now. I’ll report you for harassment to the police if you don’t.”

A spectrum of colors flashed across her face, from purple to ghostly white. She turned on her heel and marched off my porch without saying anything more.

Observing her retreat, I had a range of emotions. I felt angry at her foolishness, saddened by my father’s and grandmother’s deaths, and somehow proud. I had defended my family and our history.

I surveyed the interior, taking in all the well-known items that were home to a multitude of tales. Every one of them represented a portion of my family’s past and was intended to be treasured and handed down through the years. These were not trinkets to be distributed to pampered neighbors.

A smile came to my face as I shut the door. I had no doubt that grandmother was somewhere, admiring my handling of “that entitled lady.” And I felt closer to her than ever at that precise time, encircled by the comforting recollections of family.