It does happen in real life.

If there is one thing this column had made clear from the very beginning, it is that a succession plan gone awry or the absence of one could be as good as playing with Pandora’s box.

I’ve discussed several “horror stories” in the past—from a generous estate owner who ill-fatedly transferred properties to her children, rendering her begging the latter for support; to a couple who, without a will, passed away leaving their children fighting over properties they had left behind.

These real-life stories seemed to have inspired several readers to send in their own nightmare encounters involving inheritance.

I recently received a letter from “George” (not his real name), a successful insurance executive who lives in one of the plush villages in Metro Manila. His letter ended with a heart-rending statement, “As I write this, I continue to grieve—grieve for a family I once had—my siblings and my parents living a comfortable upper- middle-income life and loving it.”

Let’s hear his story.

George is the eldest of three siblings. For the past 21 months, he has been going through a “harrowing experience” which started with the death of his father. It left him struggling against two groups: first with the siblings of his mother and then later, his own siblings.

George narrates: “My mother was the president of a family corporation [owned by my mother and her siblings] which owned rental properties and real estate in Manila. My late father helped manage this family business.”

Ever the pragmatic CPA, George’s father had repeatedly suggested to his mother to get the opinion of her siblings on whether to continue the business or partition it while they are all still around.

George’s mother, ever the emotional businesswoman, felt that such a move was tantamount to a prodigal son asking for his share in the inheritance and would hear none of it. That was the end of the discussion.

The conflict started to surface when George’s father died. He wrote, “Mommy became vulnerable to accusations of mismanagement by some of her siblings and in-laws—whose main agenda was to remove her as company president. She was 82 then. I had to protect her from threats of lawsuits.”

“The quarrels continued until such time that mother agreed to just sell their shares in the family corporation. As the eldest child, I took charge of negotiating with my uncles and aunts with the help of a lawyer-friend,” he added.

Eventually, after a year of nasty exchange of letters and e-mail, George and his family got the proceeds of the sales, which he later distributed among himself and his siblings, based on the corporate shares given to them by their parents. The bulk of the proceeds, he placed in two banks solely for the care of their aging mother.

He then wrote, “Everything seemed to have quieted then—but not for long. Soon, the temporary peace was shattered once more and it got worse.”

Another round of legal and family problems ensued to his dismay—this time against his own siblings, who sided with each other in demanding that they be allowed to dip into the funds of their mother to take care of their children’s education.

“I insisted that Mommy’s funds be used for her care,” he wrote. “I did not get any reaction so I assumed their silence meant they respected my decision.”

“Now I have been called every name from being greedy to callous. Even the donations I am making to an educational institution on behalf of my mother, which she gave instructions on, are questioned since they feel it should be given to them. And they have threatened to sue, on what grounds I still do not know.”

Having learned from this unfortunate and seemingly endless rift, George said that he intends to put up a well-thought-of succession plan for his own children. He wrote, “I now know that the bond shared by my children now might not be the same bond a few years later when they get married, start a family and pursue their own dreams.”

George’s story mirrors the difficulties many face concerning inheritance, when all hell breaks lose by the demise of the person who keeps the family together—the patriarch (or matriarch). Many times, with their demise is the loss of the family.

This need not happen. One of steps we can take today to avoid or at least minimize conflicts is to set up, as timely as possible, our own carefully constructed succession plan if only to ensure that our wealth—material and otherwise—becomes a blessing and not a curse on the next generation, our children.

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My note of thanks continue…to those who graciously hosted my wife and I during our trip to the US. In Florida, although I was not able to see them, I had a pleasant time exchanging updates (through phone and YM) with my high-school classmates Paddy Faustino and Nonong Reyes. In Tobyhanna, Pennsylvania, it was my sister Cecilia and her husband Eli Primero along with their youngest daughter, the lovely Ivana, who took care of us in their lovely home up in the cool mountains of Pennsylvania, where leaves have turned attractively multi-colored. New York was such a blast as I reconnected with old friends: my Loyola Heights neighbor, Jon Noguera, who gave us a generous deal at the Embassy Suites where he works; my good old childhood friend and fellow-UPSCAn Rolly Gamalinda who took time off from work to show us the sights and sounds of the inner streets of New York; and another childhood and family friend, Lilibeth (now Copper) Caparras Delgado who treated us to a sumptuous Chinese dinner on our last night before leaving for DC. And thanks to Irma Malabanan-Lichauco, another New Yorker, for setting us up with Rolly and Copper. Maraming salamat po!

Last batch of friends to thank in the next column.

I invite everyone to comment or send in their own real life “horror stories” so others, through this column, may learn from them. You may e-mail me at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .