11/11/2025
I’ll leave you nothing
I wish it were different but when I leave I’ll leave you nothing. For I have nothing to give.
There’ll be no pension pots to divide. No assets to sell. No shares to cash in or wills to work out.
I won’t leave you diamond rings or fancy watches. There’ll be no limited edition books or priceless art work.
You won’t be extending your house or flying across the world with a generous inheritance. There’ll be zilch to profit from.
Or so he thought. He apologised over the years for the lack, for having no wealth to offer. Or so he thought.
A tattered page from the Readers Digest of a beloved poem.
Boxes of cards and keepsakes he had treasured over the years. Pictures drawn at school and handwritten notes.
7” records we played in the family home.
A spare radiator key.
A hand painted mug from a holiday to Cornwall. The perfect size for my daily coffee.
Spare bulbs and batteries - just in case.
A frozen batch of your bolognese sauce we’ve loved for years.
Photos upon photos of Mums and Dads, grandparents and great-grand parents. A photographic family history.
Anecdotes and advice. Tricks played on your brother and your love for your Nan.
“Breakfast is the most important meal of that day” and “don’t let the petrol run low it’s bad for the engine”
My chin, my eyes, a tinge of red in my hair.
Curiosity about the world. Love nature, notice trees and listen to the birds.
Spare glasses in the car and some pounds for the parking.
Tins of rice pudding. Packets of ginger nuts. A lifetime supply of Worcestershire sauce.
You thought you’d leave nothing but you left it all.