The Story of Alex and Sam

The grief was unbearable, but soon, practical realities began to set in. Alex had to deal with funeral arrangements, notifying friends and family, and sorting through Sam’s belongings. Amid the emotional fog, Alex made an appointment with a lawyer to discuss Sam’s estate, assuming it would be straightforward.

It wasn’t.  Though Alex and Sam had talked about their future—about retirement, the kids, and what kind of life they wanted to build together—there was one conversation they had never fully had: writing a will. They both knew it was important, but with life so busy, it always seemed to fall to the bottom of the to-do list. They thought there was plenty of time.

When the lawyer asked if Sam had left a will, Alex’s heart dropped. They both had always meant to write one, but somehow it had never happened. They had assumed everything would be taken care of automatically, that their relationship and shared life would make things simple.

“I’m afraid that without a will, Sam’s estate will go into probate,” the lawyer explained gently. “According to the law, Sam’s assets will be divided between their biological child, Casey, and you.”

Alex sat there in stunned silence, realizing the implications. “What about Taylor and Jordan?” they asked. “They’ve been part of Sam’s life for years.”

The lawyer gave a sympathetic nod. “Unfortunately, since they aren’t Sam’s biological children, they aren’t automatically entitled to a share of the estate unless Sam had specified that in a will.”

Alex felt the weight of those words settle heavily. Taylor and Jordan had lost a parent too. Sam had been a central part of their lives, their home, their family. And yet, in the eyes of the law, that connection seemed invisible, unrecognized.

As the probate process began, the complexities only grew. The house, which had been in Sam’s name, was now considered part of the estate. Sam’s biological child, Casey, was entitled to half of it, along with any other assets. Alex, grieving and overwhelmed, suddenly found themself in the uncomfortable position of having to negotiate with Casey’s other biological parent, Leslie, who had entered the picture as Casey’s legal guardian after Sam’s death.  

Sam and Alex also had separate bank accounts, Sam had most of their saving in a saving account is his name which was not a problem when he was alive, anytime they needed extra money he would just make a withdrawal.  But now it was needed for the funeral expenses and Alex did not make enough alone to pay the house note and all the household expenses. Alex was not on the account and bank would not let Alex withdraw any money.   

Leslie wasn’t malicious, but they were firm. “Casey has a right to their inheritance,” Leslie said, “and that includes the house. We’ll have to make sure everything is divided fairly.”

It felt like a cruel twist of fate. The home Alex had shared with Sam, the place where all their kids had grown up and shared memories, was now part of a legal battle. Taylor and Jordan, who had called this place home just as much as Casey had, were suddenly outsiders in the process.

“Please, Leslie,” Alex pleaded one day over the phone. “We’re all family here. Sam would’ve wanted all the kids to be taken care of, not just Casey.”

Leslie sighed on the other end. “I know, but without a will, there’s nothing we can do outside the legal process. I’m just trying to protect Casey’s future.”

Weeks turned into months, and the probate process dragged on. The financial strain of the legal fees and the uncertainty of whether they would even be able to stay in the house weighed heavily on Alex. Taylor, who was supposed to be focusing on college applications, grew more withdrawn, and Jordan, who had always been the optimist of the family, stopped playing guitar.

Casey, caught in the middle of it all, seemed lost too. They spent more and more time with Leslie, and though Alex tried to keep the lines of communication open, the tension was undeniable. What had once been a blended family now felt like it was unraveling, piece by piece.

The worst part was knowing that this all could have been avoided. Alex and Sam had always planned to make things official, to ensure that their blended family would be taken care of if anything ever happened. But now, without that legal protection, everything they had built together seemed to be slipping through their fingers.

Eventually, after months of legal back-and-forth, the estate was divided. Alex was able to keep stay in the house but had to buy out Casey’s share with the part of the saving account Alex was awarded, leaving them too financially stretched.  So, they had to sell the house and move to a much smaller house in a different school district and Taylor and Jordan had to transfer to a new school leaving behind all the friends they had made over the year. The emotional toll, however, was even greater. The family they had worked so hard to blend now was fractured. Casey spent more and more time with Leslie, and the distance between them and Taylor and Jordan grew wider by the day.

In the end, the absence of a will hadn’t just created financial complications—it had created emotional divides that might never fully heal. Alex, sitting in the now-quiet house, wondered if things could ever return to the way they had been. Sam’s death had taken so much from them, but it was the unspoken legalities—the things they had never prepared for—that had torn the family apart in ways Alex never could have anticipated.

As they looked at the photos on the wall—pictures of family vacations, birthday parties, and moments that had once felt full of promise—Alex made a silent vow. They would make sure, from this moment forward, that their children—**all** of their children—would never have to face this uncertainty again.

But the threads of their blended family, once so strong, now felt impossibly fragile.

From the start, Alex and Sam made it a priority to have conversations about the future. They both knew the complexities of life after loss—Sam, who had lost their first spouse to illness, and Alex, who had been through a painful divorce. This time, they wanted to ensure everything was planned. They had long discussions about their family, their children, and what they wanted for the future. 

One evening, after the kids had gone to bed, they sat down together at the kitchen table. 

“We should really do an estate plan,” Sam said. “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Alex replied. “We don’t want to leave anything to chance.”  They next day, they scheduled a free discovery call with an attorney and then scheduled a Life & Legacy planning meeting for two weeks later where they decided the simplest foundational plan was all they wanted and after learning the pros and cons decided on will-based estate plan.  And one month later, they had sat down at the signing meeting putting together and signed wills, health care advanced directives and powers of attorney. 

They had agreed that if anything ever happened, they wanted to make sure that all their children—Taylor, Jordan, and Casey—were taken care of equally. There wouldn’t be any confusion or legal battles. They wouldn’t let the bonds they’d worked so hard to build be tested by something as avoidable as paperwork.

In the weeks following Sam’s death, Alex was consumed with grief, but they also knew there were practical matters to handle.  The funeral came and went, and soon Alex found themself sitting in an office with a lawyer to go over Sam’s will. 

Unlike many who lose a spouse unexpectedly, Alex wasn’t worried about what would happen next. They had planned for this, as much as anyone could. They had done the responsible thing: Sam had left a clear and legally binding will, one that detailed exactly how their estate would be handled and, most importantly, ensured that all the children—Taylor, Jordan, and Casey—would be cared for.

The lawyer began, “Everything is in order with the will. The house, the savings, and all of Sam’s assets will be divided equally between you and the children, so Taylor and Jordan will receive the same consideration as Casey. However, as discussed during the Life & Legacy planning meeting, we will need to go through the probate process, which will take a minimum of four months. We’ll have to file the will and have it accepted by the court. Additionally, we’ll need to publish a notice to creditors in the newspaper to allow any unknown creditors to make claims against the estate.

Assuming there are no unexpected issues, you can expect the estate to be settled in about six months. During this time, the court will oversee the estate. As you know, Sam chose not to set up a testamentary trust. Because the will does not establish a trust, the funds for the minor children will be placed in a guardianship account managed by the court. Leslie, as Sam’s first spouse, will likely be appointed guardian for Casey’s account, while you will oversee Taylor and Jordan’s.

Both you and Leslie will need to post a bond for each account unless the court waives that requirement. Once the accounts are established, you’ll have to file an accounting each year, which will require hiring a lawyer to prepare and submit the documents. If you need to access any of those funds for the children, you will need to petition the court for approval, which will also involve legal fees for preparation and filing.”

Alex exhaled, “At least that’s exactly how Sam wanted it divided, I wish it was a little simpler and did require involvement by the court, but I understand” Alex said.

The house, which had been a central part of their blended family’s life, would remain theirs. Alex wouldn’t have to fight or negotiate to stay in the home where they had raised their children. All three kids would be protected, financially and legally. The will ensured that Sam’s love for Taylor and Jordan, even though they weren’t biological children, was recognized fully.

There would be no painful surprises, no arguments over inheritance or probate. Sam had made sure that, even in their absence, the family would stay intact. It was a bittersweet comfort—knowing that Sam had thought ahead, had wanted to protect the family even in death.

The days turned into weeks, and although grief still weighed heavily on them all, Alex could focus on healing rather than worrying about what came next. Taylor, Jordan, and Casey processed their loss in their own ways, but the security Sam had left behind allowed them to grieve without the added burden of instability.

Taylor, on the brink of leaving for college, was given reassurance that the financial support would be there when they needed it. Jordan, who had grown quieter since Sam’s death, found solace in knowing that their home, the place where they had shared so many memories, wasn’t going anywhere. Casey, although quiet and reserved as always, seemed to understand that despite the loss, their family remained whole.

The will wasn’t just a legal document—it was a testament to the love Sam had for each member of their blended family. Sam had ensured that Alex would never have to choose between fairness and love, that there would be no gaps or unspoken divides. The care they had shown in life continued even after their death.

As time passed, Alex would often sit at the kitchen table, where they and Sam had once talked about the future. Still feeling the loss deeply, but knowing that Sam had done everything to make sure the family wouldn’t be torn apart by the unexpected. The legal battles they had feared—the ones they had seen others go through—had been avoided entirely. Alex could focus on what mattered most: helping their children heal, keeping their family close, and finding a way forward.

Though Sam was no longer there to share in the milestones to come, their legacy was more than just their possessions. It was the security and peace of mind they had left behind, ensuring that the bonds they had built with Alex, Taylor, Jordan, and Casey would remain strong, even in the face of loss.  The will had been a safeguard, yes, but more than that, it was a final act of love—a way to hold the family together, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

In the days following the tragedy, Alex began grappling with grief while simultaneously handling practical matters. Alex knew the trust was in place, but the reality of navigating Sam’s death still felt daunting. But, when meeting with the attorney to discuss the trust, Alex was surprised by how much relief washed over them.

“Everything is organized and clear,” the attorney said, reviewing the documents. “The trust outlines how Sam’s assets will be distributed, and it’s all set to ensure that the children are taken care of.”

Alex nodded, a weight lifting off their shoulders. “What about the house?”  “The house is part of the trust,” the attorney explained. “You will maintain control over it as the trustee, and the children will have their interests protected. They’re all equal beneficiaries.  The trust give you the ability and responsibility to decide what funds the children need to maintain their health, education maintenance, and support.”

The trust had been designed to provide not just financial security but emotional stability. Alex wouldn’t have to worry about probate courts, lengthy legal battles, or court administered guardianship accounts. Sam had thought ahead, and now Alex felt a sense of gratitude amid the grief.

As the months passed, the children adjusted to life without Sam. The trust allowed Alex to focus on healing and supporting Taylor, Jordan, and Casey through their own grieving processes. Taylor was anxious about college, and Jordan found solace in music again, while Casey quietly processed their emotions.

With the trust in place, Alex felt empowered to make decisions for the family. Alex was able to fund Taylor’s college education, ensuring that the dreams they had all shared could still be realized. The home they had built together remained theirs, filled with memories, laughter, and even moments of silence that spoke volumes.

The trust became a symbol of Sam’s love and foresight. It not only protected the financial interests of the children but also preserved the emotional bonds they had created as a family. It provided a safety net, allowing Alex to navigate this new reality with some measure of stability.

One evening, as Alex sat at the kitchen table, they reflected on everything that had happened. The photos of their blended family adorned the walls—snapshots of joy and milestones. Sam’s absence was palpable, but so was their enduring presence through the careful planning they had undertaken.

The trust allowed Alex to create a supportive environment where the children could flourish. They continued to hold family dinners, game nights, and movie marathons, ensuring that Sam’s spirit lived on in their shared experiences.

Alex made it a point to include Casey, Taylor, and Jordan in discussions about the future, ensuring they felt involved and heard. They talked openly about the trust and how it was designed to support them. It became a tool for communication, a way to keep Sam’s memory alive while forging ahead as a family.

Eventually, as the seasons changed, so did the family dynamic. Taylor graduated from high school, and Alex watched with pride as they stepped into the next chapter of their lives. Jordan started a band, and the music once again filled the house with energy, while Casey blossomed, becoming more expressive about thoughts and feelings.

Through it all, Alex felt Sam’s presence guiding them, a reminder of the love they had built and the plans they had made together. The revocable trust wasn’t just a legal instrument; it was a legacy, a testament to their commitment to one another and their family.

In the end, it was the love that Sam had poured into their life together that shone through. Even in loss, the bonds of family remained unbroken, and Alex knew that, with the trust in place, they could face whatever the future held—together.