When my wife's grandfather died in 2019, his estate had every classic landmine: multiple partners (some good, some not), tenants mid-fight, a tangled book of properties, and a family that loved each other but had never seen what happens to that love when an estate hits the table.
We kept the nest egg intact. We kept the family intact. That's rarer than people think.
Grandpa Rick built it the hard way. Two years on the DEW Line in the Arctic during the Cold War paid for the house, the car, and the 1960 wedding to Inez. He spent his career as a partsman at National Oilwell — quitting and getting rehired more than once — while quietly buying and selling land and buildings on the side. He didn't talk about it. He just did it. If he knew what we now know, he would of done this all and saved his family frustration, fear and anxiety of it all coming in at once and; it was the experience was second greatest gift he gave me outside of adopting me into his family as a Grandson.
I got a handful of years working alongside him before he passed. Long enough to learn the assets are the easy part. Partners' kids, spouses, tax exposure, bank changes, a personal residence sale at the wrong time — any one of those will unwind a lifetime of work.
There's an old line: a man is known for the shade his tent casts. Rick's covered me. My job now is to widen it.