Boilermaker X:
Today
1. No one would ever know. I wouldn't even tell my wife. She might find out after I die. (Everyone's situation is different, but this would work here.)
2. All phones are scrapped and replaced with new numbers before I even send in the ticket. I don't care if I knew you since my first breath. The only way to talk to me now is to make it through the newly installed guard dogs. (Cover is that something crazy happened to someone at work, now I'm worried about home security.)
Coming months
3. I elect to take the upfront payment, settle a few modest debts just for peace of mind, and everything else is divided between multiple brokerages and ultimately form an overall diversified portfolio that I manage.
4. Nothing else changes on a day-to-day basis. Nothing changes in the way I work, nothing changes around the house.
This year
5. In a few of months I start getting back in touch with family and friends and apologize for not keeping up, been really busy with work, cell phone problems, got new numbers, yadda, yadda, yadda. (Again, I know this wouldn't work for everyone, but this would work here.)
6. A tithe will be divided amongst various sources. Anonymous cashier's checks (not requiring my signature) arrive by certified mail.
Years to come
7a. Money goes toward education, social and cultural enrichment, and edifying opportunities for my children.
7b. Money may go toward long-term community projects.
7c. Money will likely go to aid those in need (always anonymously).
8. Will likely pay down the mortgage quite a bit.
9. In a few years I might get a new car or something just to be indulgent.
I've thought about this. I like my life and I don't need anything. I would much rather give it all away than have it become a problem for us or those around us and the only way I can foresee that working is if nobody knows.
You don't say?