The Tribune

By DIANE PHILLIPS

Why I decided to look at my will just before Christmas I have no idea. Well, actually, I do have one idea. It’s because after a decade, make that two decades, of putting off rewriting a seriously outdated version, I finally got around to re-addressing the subject but when the new version landed on my desk in a sealed envelope, supposedly containing all the changes I had agreed to and reviewed, I could not bring myself to break the seal and actually look at the pages. Stupid, I know. It’s not as if having a current will accelerates the need for it.

It’s just that, well, I’m not sure what. There’s just something so final about the idea of putting down in writing who gets when I am gone. Something so official about those long white ripply legal pages with the two thin vertical stripes on the left side and one on the right. Like they are trying to contain what’s in the middle, none of which makes any sense except if you are in the emotional state that looking at a will, your own will, arouses. Who would care about the stripes on a legal document? They never mattered before so why do they jump right out at you when you look at a will. That’s the whole point. It’s emotional, gut-wrenching, far more internally upsetting than you’d predict.

You’d think it would be simple.

I’m not rich. There isn’t a ton of jewelry or property in places whose names I cannot pronounce or dollars in foreign bank accounts to divide among loved ones. It wasn’t the big ticket items – one house that may or may not still be in the family. Some furniture. A car. Ordinary stuff. One little piece of property for a someday retirement cottage in a Family Island. Not a lot for friends of loved ones to fight over so what is the fuss? It’s not with them, the someday beneficiaries. It’s with me. Was I fair? Who helped me through a rough time or made the good times even better who I should be remembering now? It’s about that one bracelet that meant something to me and I want it to mean something to someone else and not just be a bracelet. Which, of course, is asking a lot – to be able to see into the future and know that whoever gets that bracelet will know what I wanted it to mean to them.

So while drafting the will meant looking forward, acknowledging that there will be a day when I won’t be here and others will be dealing with whatever I am writing now, it also meant looking back. How do I thank the woman who worked with me for so many years and who now struggles with debilitating arthritis? I stop by and see her every few months, but I know that is not enough. Do I leave her something or find money to give her now when she needs it every week? How do I handle old friendships without seeming like a geek with a soppy streak? Do some of the people I remember even remember me?

See, that’s the real problem with drafting a will. It’s not about the future, not about the thought of dying. It’s about looking back, stirring memories, churning emotions, digging deep to touch the people who touched you, though they may not recall at all. It’s about walking life’s moments in reverse.

It’s a last chance to get it right and maybe that is the crux of the problem with looking at the Will you drafted. There is no second chance at the last thing you ever do for the ones you love. And unlike a letter where you sign off with love and hugs, a will just comes to an end. The last sentence. A cold send-off. How sad.

Best of the Best will bring out the best of the best

This is the week of the Best of the Best Regatta and by the crowds on the first day, it will be an historic event. With sailing finally being recognised as the national sport, there’s record enthusiasm for the competition in Montagu Bay. Abaco even sent down boats to compete.

On the water, anchor up starts will set the tone. Sloops will wear their finest sails, sailors will hike out going upwind and clamber across the pryboard on a tack. Grown men and a few strong women will give it their all. There will be all the standard shouts from skippers and crew, mostly yelling ‘starboard’ asserting rights even if they are on port, but while all eyes are on the spectacle of the majestic A Class wooden boats on the bay and their smaller counterparts, something else will be going on onshore.

Some of the most massive betting in the nation’s history will take place as spectators scream and shout, willing the boat their money is on to go faster, faster, pass the boat in front, then the next, find clean air and do it – make it first across the finish line. It’s just a shame that a $3 bill featuring native sloops is not in circulation. In fact, I’m wondering if there are any more out there or if the one I have been saving for years is a fraud. Please inbox me if you know of any. diane@dpa-media.com and more importantly, go watch the races. Bahamian sloops are a wonder to behold and that we should.