When Gran died, she left everything to Grandad. Perfectly normal. Except that means everything they spent nearly 60 years building together is now his. And when he dies, subject to the law, his will determines where it goes.
So when does their money become his money?
Because half of what Grandad now owns was Gran’s. Some of the money that helped them buy their first family home came from Gran’s parents. Presumably they imagined they were helping build security not just for their daughter but for the family that followed.
Would they mind if, several decades and one strategically delivered cake later, some of it ended up travelling down an entirely different family tree?
Welcome to inheritance, where everybody is reasonable until suddenly they aren’t.
Brendan Reidy, a branch manager at Perpetual Guardian, says we tend to think of wills as transactional documents. They aren’t. They are intensely emotional ones.
And perhaps the first misconception is that “fair” has an obvious, objective definition.
‘No surprises’
Reidy gives an example of an elderly couple with two sons. One was a highly successful surgeon earning an extraordinary income. The other was an electrician, doing perfectly well, but nowhere near as wealthy as his brother.
The parents wanted to leave everything to the electrician. Financially, you can understand the logic. Emotionally, Reidy could see the problem.
Imagine, he told them, your sons sitting down after you die and discovering that the final document Mum and Dad left behind names only one of them. The surgeon might not think: of course, my brother needs it more. He might think, what did I do wrong?
So the parents did something radical. They talked to him and he agreed the money should go to his brother.
Same will. Same financial outcome. Completely different emotional outcome.
As I listened, I wondered whether I would have been so generous. Was I fighting for Gran, for my kids as the ultimate beneficiaries, or because the idea of family wealth changing course didn’t feel right?
“No surprises,” is Reidy’s point.
Equality is not always the same as fairness
Inheritance fights are often about more than money. Reidy says some of the biggest arguments aren’t over high-value assets. They are over chattels: the ordinary objects inside a home.
One sibling sees junk, another sees Dad. A piece of jewellery, an old chair or something worth almost nothing on Trade Me can represent childhood, approval, belonging and proof that somebody mattered.
Which helps explain why unequal inheritances can detonate families.
Perhaps one child cared for Mum for 10 years while the others breezed in at Christmas. Should everyone receive a third? Equality says yes. Fairness might say something else.
Conversely, if Mum leaves considerably more to the caregiving daughter, the other children may interpret a practical decision as a final ranking of who was loved most.
A will can say what you want, but it cannot control what everybody else thinks it means.
Nor does having a will necessarily make an estate bulletproof. Reidy says excluding a child, for example, can result in a claim under the Family Protection Act. The circumstances matter, which is why he says the advice behind the document can be as important as the document itself.
If you are making an unusual decision, record why. And preferably explain it while you are still alive.
What if you don’t have a will?
Then there is the other surprisingly complicated option: having no will.
People commonly assume if they die without a will, their spouse gets everything.
Under New Zealand’s intestacy rules, if a partner and children survive you, the surviving partner receives the personal chattels and a prescribed amount – currently $155,000 – plus one-third of the remaining estate. The children share the other two-thirds. If there are no children but surviving parents, they can also enter the equation.
A surviving spouse or partner may have separate rights under relationship-property law, but Reidy’s point is that dying without a will can create an administrative and legal problem nobody needs.
There is another trap relevant to later-life love. Marriage can revoke an existing will unless that will was made in contemplation of the marriage.
So imagine Dad meets someone after Mum dies. Everyone eventually gets used to her. They marry. Dad assumes the will he made years ago still stands. It may not.
Suddenly the family can find itself dealing with intestacy rules, relationship-property rights and expectations formed over decades, precisely when everyone is grieving.
Which brings me reluctantly back to Grandad.
If he wants to leave his money to the cake lady, part of me thinks he should. It is his life. He is not simply the custodian of an inheritance waiting for the next generation to collect it. He is allowed to fall in love, change his mind, spend his money and make decisions his granddaughter wouldn’t make.
But another part of me thinks about Gran.
If she had known that leaving everything to Grandad could ultimately mean assets they built together would leave her side of the family entirely, would she still have structured things in the same way?
That, I think, is the useful question.
Estate planning isn’t simply deciding who gets your money when you die. It is thinking several moves ahead about what happens to that money after the person you leave it to dies too.
It means asking uncomfortable questions while everyone is alive enough to answer them. What does fair mean to us? What happens if Mum or Dad repartner? Should children be treated equally or according to need? Are there family assets we hope remain within the family? Have we told anybody that? And who is going to administer this mess when we’re gone?
Silence doesn’t remove those questions; it leaves your family to answer them for you.
Preferably before someone arrives with cake.
Five ways to make a will harder to fight over
1. If you are changing your will later in life, think about ‘testamentary capacity’
If the change is likely to surprise or disappoint an expected beneficiary, consider getting contemporaneous medical evidence that you understood what you were doing when the will was signed. Reidy says testamentary capacity is often one of the first issues raised when an elderly person’s will is challenged. A medical assessment (ideally completed by a geriatrician) does not make a will unchallengeable, but it can provide strong evidence if capacity is later questioned.
2. Explain unusual decisions
Leaving one child substantially more, or leaving somebody out, may be intentional, but after your death you cannot explain why, which might make the estate open to challenge. Record the reasoning with the professional preparing your will, and where appropriate talk to the people affected so the will is not their first explanation.
3. Remember that marriage can change the picture
A later-life marriage can revoke an existing will unless the will was made in contemplation of that marriage. Repartnering is a good prompt to review the will, relationship-property arrangements and any wishes about assets that came from an earlier relationship. Similarly, if you separate from a partner you should promptly update your will.
4. Do not assume your partner gets everything if you die without a will
New Zealand’s intestacy rules depend on who survives you. Where there is a partner and children, the partner receives personal chattels, the prescribed amount and one-third of the residue; the children share the remaining two-thirds. Relationship-property rights may also need to be considered.
5. Choose an executor for the family you have
An executor represents the will, not one side of a family argument. If relationships are strained, the estate is complex or you expect a challenge, consider whether an independent professional executor may be better placed than a friend or family member caught in the middle.
Note: This article is general information, not personal legal advice. Intestacy and will-challenge outcomes depend on individual circumstances.
Hannah McQueen is the founder and director of Age Brightly. She is also the host of The Next Bit podcast on iHeart Radio.