Last Will and Testament
Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow
Don’t stop, it’ll soon be here
-Fleetwood Mac
Prince died without a will. So did Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Jr., Jimi Hendrix, Pablo Picasso, Howard Hughes.
Something like 64% of Americans don’t have a will, and for good reason, as I found out when we updated our wills from 29 years ago. Then, Pam and I were still deciding who would be guardians for our nine- and eleven-year-old daughters if we were both somehow erased from existence. Now they are both older than we were when we wrote that first will, and we are hoping someday they will be our guardians.
The prep work was daunting. What did we have? What was it worth? Who should get it? The list of questions went on for pages. We scavenged basement files for old records and documents.
The lawyer, the same man, as it turns out, who drafted that first will says, “It’s my job to ask the questions you may not want to think about.” We nod. “Your simple scenario assumes you die before your children. What if that’s not the way it turns out?” I did not want to continue this line of questioning, but he goes on. “You want to leave something to a grandchild who may be a minor when you die, but what if she’s struggling, he has a drug problem? You know—not the best time to receive a sum of money?” Suddenly the glossy narrative we just assumed is interrupted by alternate story lines, all of them sadder, but possible. We have to acknowledge that, think about that, plan accordingly.
We leave the lawyer’s office and head home. The car is quiet. Too much to think about, especially since everything we ponder presumes our deaths. Without any conscious direction on my part, the car pulls off the road and parks in front of a pub we have never seen before. It is 4:30 and the place is nearly empty. I order an IPA and Pam a Manhattan. We did it! we say, clinking our glasses. Even though we did not want to, we acknowledged that our lives would end. Hear! Hear! We found all those dumb documents, even those we ended up not needing. Sláinte! We survived our lawyerly Cassandra’s dark prophecies. Cheers! Essentially, we said yes to the future, yes to life, whatever it brings. L’chayim!
David and I just did our wills as he was having open heart surgery and it seemed a prudent thing to do. Facing your mortality takes courage, not just realism. Thanks for putting this out there for contemplation.
I love the timing of your words, David. Dave and I just returned from a conference on retirement, aging, and getting our house in order. Thanks for the words!
Kay and I are days away from the conclusion of a re-write of our will. Just got an email yesterday asking us to schedule the final signing. So this was timely. And you’re right, doing this work is an act of courage–staring (with each edit) at the skull.
David,
As usual, the mundane is often overlooked. It’s a living document (not a dead one) that needs to change with the times. And some of the questions seem unanswerable.
But the other essential document is an advance directive, such as 5 Wishes. One of the questions is what would you like to have read to you. Be interested in your thoughts on that.
That’s a great visual of you and Pam bellying up to the bar at 4:30 on a random weekday “cheersing” your mortality! I went to a high school graduation ceremony last night where a significant portion of the program was dedicated to a high school classmate that had committed suicide last year. The Mom spoke not so much of her son but of the gift of life and dealing with lifes ups and downs – was quite inspiring. The service ended with a rocking rendition of Free Bird (all 12 minutes!) with the crowd wanting more. The ceremony felt like a microcosm of life. I continue to put my will off..pass the beer nuts (but not the beer haha)!
As always, you give us a little “something, something” and we are left wanting more. Chris and I went through this exercise a couple of years ago (in our case, in was 33 years after Kirsty was born, before Madison was in existence) and it was sobering. Happy you and Pam felt the joy and relief to have a toast to this thing called life!
So many daily things (including Aleve becoming a staple on one’s shopping list) remind us that the BIG EVENT that sparks that ‘last will and testament’ discussion WILL HAPPEN. Sometimes I’m scared,…scared about not being ready or that I will need just a little more time. Silly huh! Of course its silly because I am not the one calling the shots. I can however, snuff out those scary and humbling moments by savoring all that is NOW, by being grateful for all I’ve learned and experienced in the PAST, and most of all by trusting in all that WILL BE and knowing I am cared for by HIM. You know, maybe we all have to just go out there and do as the lady in the back pew did, after her daughter sang a mighty praise hymn, by shouting “Sing it child!’. Yup, life and death they are both part of our song. I know I’ve got to live it with all its complexities of mystery and promises….., but more than that, I believe I need to sing it and sing it in my soul because a song from my voice is not what you would want to hear.
Nice to read your wonderful comment, Marcia—I miss your voice! Yes, it’s all about accepting that we’re not in control of the beginning, middle or end. But God is. To let that drop the 18 inches from the head to the heart takes a lifetime—and, it seems, maybe just a little bit more, please!