I Was Promised a Financial Gift from My Dad But He D!ed Before I Got It. My Sisters Now Say I Shouldn't Be Able to Claim It From the Estate

It had been just a few months since I lost my father. The grief still felt raw, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. But alongside the sorrow, there was something else—an ever-present, gnawing feeling of injustice. A promise had been made to me, and now, my sisters were trying to take it away.

I, at 30 years old, had lived much of my life without many expectations from my family. I’d spent years working, moving abroad, living in big cities, and depending on public transportation to get around. Driving never felt like a priority. But now, things were different. I wanted to learn to drive. I wanted a car of my own, especially for when I have kids in the near future, as I’d always assumed that driving would become a necessity. When I was younger, the idea of driving had seemed far off. But now that I was getting older, I realized that the promise my father made to me—of financial help for a car—was something I wanted to claim.

I had always trusted my father. Growing up, my two sisters and I had the same basic upbringing, but we all had very different experiences. My younger sister, Lily, had been given money by Dad for driving lessons and a car when she started learning. She was younger than me, but my parents, at the time, had the resources to support her in that way. I wasn’t bitter about it. Life was just… complicated. We didn’t all get the same things, but that was okay. But what wasn’t okay was the promise my father made to me and that was suddenly being taken away from me.

The promise had been clear: I would get the same financial help Lily had when I eventually bought a car. My father had said it in front of my mother, so there was no question in my mind that this was a commitment. The fact that I hadn't yet learned to drive at that point was beside the point—I'd been busy with university, traveling, and my career. But now, I was ready.

I sat down with my mom one evening after the funeral. I brought it up gently, my voice trembling as I said, “Mum, I know this isn’t an easy time, but I need to talk about something Dad promised me.” My heart beat louder than I wanted it to, but I knew I had to get this off my chest.

“You know he promised me the same as Lily. He said I’d get the same financial help when I bought a car,” I said, looking into her eyes.

She nodded slowly. “I remember that. Your father was very adamant about that,” she said softly. “But you should talk to your sisters. They’ve had their fair share of help with the cars. It’s only fair you ask them.”

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was to come. I called Lily and my older sister, Emma, and arranged to meet them for coffee a few days later. My nerves were rattled as I prepared for the conversation. I thought this would be a straightforward request. But what happened next was anything but simple.

When we sat down at the cafe, I was met with an air of tension. Emma, as always, looked confident and polished. Lily, the younger one, seemed distracted. As soon as I brought up the topic, everything shifted.

“So, I’m asking for the money Dad promised me for a car,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “You both received help, and Dad said I’d get the same. I’ve always planned to learn to drive, and I’m ready now.”

Lily looked at me with a kind of surprise, as though she didn’t even realize that I hadn’t received the same financial support she had. “But you didn’t even care about driving back then. I was the one who needed it because I was about to start my life,” she said with an edge to her voice.

“Lily, I’m not asking for your sympathy. I just want what was promised to me,” I said, feeling frustration beginning to bubble. “I worked hard for it too, and I’ve been patient.”

Emma interjected, her voice sharp, “But you never even tried to drive before! Dad didn’t give you the same because you didn’t need it. You didn’t care enough back then.”

I felt a sting at her words. “It’s not about that. It’s about Dad’s promise to me. You know I’ve been busy with life, with school, with my job. And now, I’m asking for what was promised to me.”

The words hung in the air, but Emma just rolled her eyes. “You’re just being dramatic, you know that? Dad gave us both what we needed. You didn’t even bother asking.”

Her words cut deep. I hadn’t expected this. The pain was more than just the money—it was the realization that my sisters didn’t see the value of what I was asking for. The sense of betrayal gnawed at me.

“Do you hear yourself?” I snapped, finally unable to hold it back. “This isn’t about who got what first, it’s about fairness. I need help, and Dad promised it to me.”

Lily, whose face had reddened with the tension, finally spoke up, “It’s not that simple. I don’t know if I can just give you money for a car like that. Maybe you should’ve asked earlier.”

I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. “So, you’re telling me I’m not entitled to the same consideration because I didn’t ask when you did?” I could feel the hot tears starting to well up in my eyes, but I held them back. “I don’t know what I expected from this family, but clearly it’s not what I thought.”

As I stormed out of the cafe, I heard Emma’s voice calling after me. “Don’t be so dramatic, okay?”

That was it. I was done. The weight of their words, their dismissive attitudes, pushed me to the edge. The emotional toll of being belittled by my own family over something I deserved was unbearable.

Days passed. The silence between me and my sisters grew more pronounced. I started to feel more isolated, more alone in my desire to stand up for what was rightfully mine. I couldn’t believe my own sisters couldn’t understand the importance of fairness and the promise Dad had made.

Weeks later, after not speaking to them for a while, I received a message from Emma. She apologized for her words, admitting that she’d been caught up in the emotions of the moment. Lily also reached out, saying that she understood now and that they’d like to work it out.

But by then, I had already made up my mind. I didn’t need to ask for permission or beg for validation anymore. I took matters into my own hands.

I sought advice from a lawyer, hoping to understand if I had any legal right to claim the money from Dad’s estate. The lawyer explained that I had a reasonable claim, given the promise Dad had made, and helped me pursue the matter.

After much deliberation, and with the help of a legal professional, I was granted the financial assistance I needed for the car. It wasn’t just the money—it was the validation that I had stood up for myself when everyone else had failed to do so.

I still talk to my sisters occasionally, but things have never been the same. The emotional wound of being dismissed by my own family lingers, but I’ve learned to protect myself. I’ve learned that sometimes, it’s not about asking for permission; it’s about claiming what’s rightfully yours.

And when it comes to family, sometimes the hardest thing to do is accept that you can’t always count on them to support you.