To Die For

Maybe about a month ago, I started taking vitamins. It’s one of those little packets that have this and that in it – all supposedly good for me to be taking, of course, and I believe it; I just HATE swallowing vitamins. Especially the big, “horse-sized” ones. Sometimes, they even make me gag… ick. There’s eight vitamins in my little packet, plus I take B12 (supposedly really good for your body in general – and I DID notice it got me feeling better faster when I was catching a cold) plus my other prescriptions (part of my diabetes regimen). As stated previously, I’m not very consistent about taking care of myself, but now my perspective is such that I see myself as the “only one left to take care of things” so I’m forced to make my health more of a priority. Living a little longer and a little better is worth today’s discomfort of swallowing “horse-sized” vitamins (my opinion).

A few days ago, I visited my attorney’s office to update my trust. I am a life insurance agent by trade (yea, ironic – I know), and a year and a half before the Bunny’s death, I dragged him to the attorney’s office to set up a trust for our family – the first time either of us had done any such thing. In the course of my work, I conceptually understood what a trust was and what it was for – but like most things, the reality was much different. I remember the Bunny wanting to know “what are we going to be doing?” and “what’s the attorney going to say?” – he was very agitated, wanting to know what to expect. I told him I didn’t know; I really DIDN’T know, but I knew it was important, I knew we needed to do it, and I trusted the attorney (who was referred to me by a close business colleague at the time). In our little family, there was me and Christopher, and the Bunny and Trevor. The Bunny and I did not have children together – I think when we were first married I said I wanted to, but the Bunny did not want to be raising children through his fifties, and with my parenting issues it was easy to talk me out of it. I guess hindsight being twenty-twenty, it all worked out for the best – I can’t imagine how overwhelmed I would have been with a toddler right about now – even a child that would have been mine and the Bunny’s.

So, we did the trust – a process which included our wills, and durable powers of attorney for medical decisions. When the Bunny was in ICU for three weeks, I got to see firsthand how a durable power of attorney for medical decisions works. It’s essentially a document which speaks for you (when you are incapacitated) to the doctors with regard to your care. It says things like: “If there is no hope of me recognizing my family or living without the aid of machinery to sustain my life, then don’t take any extreme measures to save me,” – this is just one example of the many scenarios in this document. If I remember ours, I think each are at least seven pages long (there are lots of scenarios!). I recall the doctors really being impressed with the level of detail in the Bunny’s document; I made it a point to give that feedback to my attorney. It’s always nice to know that what you are doing is valued and appreciated. It was so well written that even one of the Bunny’s doctors mentioned she was going to go back to her own attorney and have hers redone!

Now, I have a pretty good sense of how a trust works and how someone’s wishes are played out in the real world… again, the conceptual versus the reality. My objectives are much clearer now, and what kind of impact I wish to have on my family and loved ones. Not just them, though; I want to have an impact on people in my life who I feel have had a significant impact in shaping the person I am today… that’s the cool thing about a trust: you can make it do whatever you want. When you hear about rich people “leaving their fortune to their cat” – that really does happen! Not that I am leaving my fortune to my cat, mind you. I have some more radical plans than that. But the most important epiphany I had when I was sitting in the attorney’s office the other day, is that when you sit down and plan a trust, when you plan what happens to all your stuff when you die, the trick is you have to do it from the perspective that you are going to die… tomorrow. Death doesn’t always come to you way down the road, “sometime in the future when I’m old and gray” – for some, it DOES come tomorrow. And you have to be prepared. You have to be ready.

There’s a saying in the life insurance business. It asks, “When’s the best time to buy life insurance?” The answer? “The day before you die.” How many things are left undone because people imagine there is an unlimited amount of time available, so it’s okay to procrastinate? Just like treating others with kindness, or holding the door open for someone, or taking the time to say “thank you.” Remembering that time is limited, remembering that you will die someday makes you appreciate what you have “in the here and now” all the more. At least it does for me. But, my typical disclaimer when I feel like I get too preachy: what do I know?

Every year, I’ll visit my attorney’s office, and look at my trust. Some things will change, some things will stay the same – to reflect changes in my life if I am lucky enough to still be here. I DO hope it’s long enough for me to find out if these vitamins really are doing for me what the marketing says they are doing… that would be a drag to be choking them down for nothing! But I have faith. And for all the rest, I have my trust.