When people hear “millionaire,” they picture luxury—but Orville, my ex-wife’s grandfather, embodied a wealth of a different kind: quiet, generous, and deeply human.
One spring, he called and asked if we needed anything. I replied, “Just time—with you.” That summer, he invited me and my kids to his lake house, much to my ex-wife’s outrage. But it became a season of magic. Orville taught Alex and Lila to fish, share stories, and appreciate silence. They laughed, learned, and listened.
When my ex arrived flaunting wealth, Orville simply said, “They love what I have. You help them love who I am.”
Later, after a fall, we stayed to care for him. “This,” he said, eyes brimming, “is the best week of my life.” Before we left, he gave the kids a coin box—“Every one has a story. Help them live on.”
When he passed, his will stunned everyone. His estate went to charity. The lake house became a veterans’ retreat. To the kids: a note, a Bible, and his gratitude.
Now Alex studies social work. Lila writes. And every Christmas, we light a candle for Orville.
His true wealth wasn’t in money—but in love, stories, and a summer we’ll never forget.
