It was nice of him. Sure.
I mean, we never really spoke, never really understood each other. And there wasn't any advance notice for me to rush to his bedside across the country, to tearfully discover a closeness we never had. I am sad about that, but the overriding emotion right now is bewilderment.
Why on earth would my father leave me, specifically in his last will and testament, a half-eaten can of mixed nuts and a manilla envelope full of unpaid parking tickets?