My sister’s will and what it taught me.

On August 13, 2025, my husband and I found my sister unresponsive in her home.
The moment was traumatic and terribly upsetting. My thoughts immediately turned
to my mother, how would I tell her she had lost her daughter while dealing with
her son’s terminal cancer diagnosis?

That was the personal side of loss. Days, weeks and months later came the
business side of dying.

My sister, Victoria, Tory to everyone who knew her, lived a full and colorful life.
She worked in healthcare, built close friendships, loved staying active, and filled
her home with warmth and personality. More than anything, she cared deeply about
the people in her life. Relationships mattered to her, and she made time for them.

With Jonathan’s urging, she knew she needed a will. She had taken that step, she
wrote one. My brothers and I even had copies. She believed she had handled things.

But after her death, we couldn’t find the original. And as we looked closer, we
realized something worse: the document wasn’t legally binding. It had not been
prepared by a lawyer. It lacked notarization and key legal language. It expressed her wishes, but legally, it didn’t carry weight.

Because Tory had no spouse or children, my 86 year old mother was considered
next of kin. She had just lost her daughter and was also coping with a son battling
cancer. Taking on the role of executor wasn’t realistic. Our lawyer ultimately
appointed me as personal representative.

That’s when the complications began.

Without a valid will, everything moved through the courts. Even selling her house
required judicial approval. Before submitting a contract, we needed an appraisal
based on the value at the time of death, then another based on current market value.
The judge had to approve the sales price. What normally might be a 30 day closing
became 45 days or more.

Every step took time.

Every delay added stress.

And all of it unfolded while we were grieving.

The irony is that Tory tried to do the right thing. She didn’t ignore estate planning.
She made an effort. But a will that isn’t legally valid can create nearly as much
complexity as having no will at all.

That’s the lesson I didn’t fully appreciate before this.

Estate planning isn’t just about writing down your wishes. It’s about making sure
those wishes are enforceable. The difference between a properly executed will and
an informal document can mean the difference between a smooth process and
months of legal oversight.

It can affect who is in charge, how quickly assets are distributed, whether court
approval is required, how the property is sold, and how much stress falls on family
members.

None of this changes the grief. But it can greatly change the burden placed on
those left behind.

Tory lived with warmth and generosity. She cared deeply about family and friends,
and she tried to plan ahead. But good intentions weren’t enough in this case.

If there’s one takeaway from my sister’s passing, it’s this: Don’t assume a will is
valid just because it exists. Make sure it’s properly executed. Make sure it meets
your state’s requirements. Make sure someone knows where the original is kept.
Because the goal of estate planning isn’t just to state your wishes. It’s to make
things easier for the people you love.

My sister left us with memories, love, and one final lesson.

A will should bring clarity, not questions.