When a cousin we hardly knew died without a will, the State of Oregon tracked us down

Mostly, she ignored our side of the family. Old family films and photographs show us playing together during our preschool years.  Afterward, little or nothing.

I’ll refer to her as G.

G probably shopped in this plaza

I never knew where G was or what she was doing. She wanted it this way for reasons I’ll never know. Now the State of Oregon has found my two brothers and me while looking for relatives, notably one who lives in or near Ashland who could handle the estate. Fortunately, an Oregon relative turned up and agreed to handle an estate that consists mainly of household items and a car.

I have no idea what happened to G’s husband.

I feel like a voyeur. I don’t want to know about her now because when G was alive, she didn’t want me to know her then. In a sporadic letter to one of my brothers, she once informed us that our favorite aunt had passed away months before. To me, this kind of slap-dash approach to family was unconscionable.

So, when I did know something, I was usually ticked off.

Now I’m suddenly an heir and that ticks me off, too.  I want to remain just as anonymous as she was.  I don’t want to see an accounting of the personal items in her house or the loose change in the glove compartment of her car.

Or maybe there will be a 1960s letter from my mother in a box in the attic. If so, it will be friendly and chatty, ending with “Why don’t you ever write?”

G never answered that question. If the answer lurks within the confines of G’s estate, I don’t want to hear it now.  Hearing that G died was more than I wanted to know. Is that cold? If so, I’m slow to forgive.

–Malcolm