Rewritten
On rewriting your estate plan after the death of a loved one
Yesterday Amy and I sat down to talk about how to reconfigure our estate plan. My awareness of sudden changes in the course of life has been underlined in the past two weeks by the death of a client, a dear friend receiving a harsh diagnosis, and another friend undergoing radical surgery. I know all too well that despite 2020 being a year of horrific losses for me, I'm not immune from more. And so I have to practice what I preach and face all the places in my living trust where Hunter's name is listed. My only heir is no longer. It's a seismic shift to reconsider what to do if tomorrow I die or if Amy and I die together. No one wants to think about these things, but when Hunter died at the tender age of 21 it became glaringly evident that anything can happen. I am reminded of Francis Weller (author of "The Wild Edge of Sorrow") saying that everything we love we will lose. That idea will either bring you to your knees in despair or catapult you forward into living each moment with greater compassion and attention.
It's strange to walk Amy and me through the process I do with my clients, but that is exactly what we did yesterday. We wrote down the value of every asset (bank and retirement accounts, our home and cars, my business, life insurance, investments). Then we wrote down the people and organizations we would want to distribute our assets to. We had to consider tax consequences (it's better to gift charities from your IRA/401k assets, for example), the age of the recipient (it's a pain in the ass for a minor to receive a bequest and there are plenty of creative ways to manage this), where the person lives (if they live outside the US it's better to give them life insurance proceeds rather than IRA assets or real estate) and any special instructions we wanted to include with the gifts. It got tense as we tried to set aside the thought of both dying simultaneously... though in a weird way that was easier than the conversation about one of us dying, leaving the other behind to pick up the shards of their life without the other's support and comfort.
The thing is, not having a plan is still a plan. We want to decide what happens with what we've worked so hard to create. If we avoid this odious task we are putting the decision on family members and that is a burden no one deserves. For the past decade, I have told clients that the most tangible way you can express your love to your family, friends, and community is to handle the details of estate planning. Even if you think you have nothing. You don't know what will happen five years from now-- your net worth may change, there may be an accidental death and a lawsuit, which would likely be paid out to your estate. Who do you want to receive these monies? This is especially important if you are in an unmarried partnership, have contentious relationships with family members, or simply want friends to benefit rather than siblings you have no connection to.
After an hour of assigning dollar amounts or percentages to family members, discussing the best strategy for my business so clients are well cared for, and getting clearer about what organizations are most aligned with our values, we closed our computers and went back to work (for me) and studying (for Amy). Within an hour I was a puddle... the gravity of the conversation had caught up with my body, the loss of Hunter ricocheting off every surface. This is the journey.
Dive down. Fall into the abyss. Rise up for air. Attend to life. Crumble. Wail. Cherish breath. Get up. Drink tea. Allow tears to splash on journals and books. Marvel at snow. Curl into a ball. Repeat.
