My mother waited until I’d graduated from high school to tell me that she’d selected me to be heiress of our legacy heritage, as well as our accumulated wealth and family home, but being who she was, she didn’t push me to accept it sooner than I felt I was ready. She wanted me to be able to experience my youth, as she had, and live my life to the fullest and exactly as I wanted before having to take up the mantle and responsibility of the family, myself.
I have to say, I was surprised to hear from my sister after all this time, and to find out she’s handing off the legacy? That’s just never been done before by any of the matriarchs of our family, no matter how much they or their children didn’t want the mantle. I’ll, of course, accept it, and ensure it’s carried on from there, but I can’t help but wonder why she didn’t push harder for her own sons to continue the family’s traditions.
I am the last of my line, at least the last of my line that will bear the burden this family’s placed upon us. After all the history our family has been through, I never thought I would say those words, but it’s the situation I’m faced with. My line will go on, but the history of the family will continue without me. However, before I get to that, let me go back a ways so that anyone who reads this may understand the decision I had to make.