My parents have a cabinet full of toys in their home. These are toys that my siblings and I played with years ago. (Now don't be impertinent enough to ask how many years ago. Long enough ago that these toys have celebrated the big Three O - and then some.) There are Lincoln Logs, Tinker Toys, and, since I have 3 brothers, there are a plethora - or entire platoons - of green army men. When one of my now-20-something-year-old nephews was about 4 or 5 years old, he asked my mom, "Grandma, who gets the army men when you die?" Along these same lines, Maureen left me a comment about my last post that set me to thinking.
What happens to your stash when you pass on to that perfect LYS in the sky? What if your family doesn't realize the riches you have in the stash?! Do the chills run up and down your spine, too, when you ponder this? Will the non-knitters realize the true value of the treasure trove the knitter left behind - the sumptuous richness of cashmere, the steady softness of merino, the lustrous silk? Will they appreciate the difference between Kidsilk Haze and yarns like Red Heart?
And what about the professionals who deal with estate planning? Have they ever had a client who had a stash - estate planning for the fiber enthusiast? Would they suggest that the knitter leave specific instructions..."In the event of my death, do not open the upstairs closet door unless in the presence of a member of my local knitters' guild or one of my knitting friends...?" Are there wealthy knitters who leave 12 million in trust for the continued care of their stash, in the style of Leona Helmsley?
Ooohh, imagine the stash you'd acquire if you had that kind of money.
Hmm? What? Sorry - guess I drifted off there for a minute. A girl can dream, can't she?
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