Some years back I had like most adolescent thought I was quite old enough for any situation, until it dawned on me when my Grandfather passed away, I was the one entrusted with most of his valuables, what you will normally call “memorabilia”. He was a successful man... quite successful if you ask me.
During preparation for his burial, we were so confident of a hitch free ceremony, because one of my uncles had assured us that he had confided in him shortly before his passing away that substantial amount of money was in the bank, of which I was the only signatory as next-of-kin. The proof the bank require from me was a 14-digit account number with which the withdrawal will be activated.
