A letter from Dorothy
Posted in : Philosophy on by : ks
Simon, a successful lawyer, came into his office one morning to find a lady in a nurse uniform waiting for him. She handed him a large manilla envelope and left. He opened the envelope and amongst its contents, he found the letter below.
You may not remember me, but twelve years ago, you assist me in winding up my late Rodney’s estate. It is my dying wish that you do the same for me.
I am lying on my death bed as a nurse writes this down for me, with the instruction to deliver it to you without my three sons reading it. Attached to this letter is my last will and testament. You may find it concerning that I am not leaving anything to my three sons. You will also find a portable computer hard drive.
You see, I tried hard with them, but they only live for themselves.
Matty, my eldest, he’s a drinker. Any money he gets he wastes on the booze. He gets drunk, goes home and beats his wife. I have seen him do it in front of me. They were pregnant three times and lost all three babies from his abuse. I have begged her to leave him, but she won’t. She says he loves her. It saddens my heart that a beautiful young woman sees violence as love.
Anthony, my second, he’s a thief and a gambler. He used to install security gates, and when Rodney died I asked him to come and install gates for me so that I could be safe. He charged me six times what anyone else would have charged me. I kept quiet. He is my son, and I just paid. But when your own son just blindly takes your pension money, it breaks your heart. He lost his clients in the end, and now he spends his time stealing. And when he is not spending a night in the local cell, he is at the casino gambling his ill-gotten gains.
Jacob, my youngest, he’s the most intelligent. He could have gone the furthest in life, but instead, he sells drugs to kids. Kids that could have futures, and he is taking that away from them. He’s never been caught, but his day of reckoning is about to come. You see Simon, I am not stupid. I have been collecting proof for the last 12 years.
After Rodney died, I hardly saw my boys. I would call, and they wouldn’t take my call, nor would they return it. And when they visited, I recorded everything in my house. I had cameras and microphones installed everywhere. And it didn’t take me long to figure out how to leverage all this to my advantage.
I have video proof of Matty coming into the house when his wife had come to visit me. Violently drunk, and start beating her right in front of me. I would try and stop him of course, and he would shout at me and tell me to mind my own business. One of the videos, you can see her clearly pregnant. When she was lying on the ground he started kicking her in the stomach. It is all vivid and clear in the videos on the drive.
I also have video proof of Anthony coming into my house and stealing money, jewelry, and other items. Most of the footage is of him.
And then Jacob. You know that the boy only started to visit me when I fell ill. But it was too late. It’s a good thing I had the microphones in the house because I recorded all his conversations where he was making drug deals. I even got on the cameras where he would write down names, numbers, and addresses.
Maybe they won’t be punished much, but maybe they will be punished just enough.
Lastly, I want to tell you about Shadrack. Shadrack is the car guard at the local shopping centre. He is looking after his three kids, and his wife died about five years ago. He has no family to speak of, but he tends to the shoppers and assists them, only for 50c or a few Rand. He would tell me that some days, he barely makes enough to get home with a loaf of bread.
He works seven days a week, and he is putting his three children through school with what little he has. He is a good man. He is always polite, always smiling, and always helpful. If I miss a day at the shops, the next day when he sees me, he lights up and says “Aunty Dorothy, I was worried, but I am glad to see you.” Sadly, I tend to think, he was more of a son to me, than my own.
I want you to sell all my possessions. My house, my car, my Jewellery, everything. I want you to try and get the best price possible. And I want you to do the following. I want you to take 10% for yourself. You were ever so kind to me when my Rodney died. My boys just deserted me, but you came over regularly to make sure I had groceries and that I was okay. I even remember you took my car for a service.
I want you to take 30% and give it to Shadrack. His contact details are on the back of this letter. Tell him, this is for all the kindness he showed an old lady, sometimes for no reward. The remaining 60%, I want you to split equally into three investments for Shadrack’s children. To payout out to them on the day they turn 25.
This is my dying wish. I ask that you please honor it.