Can We Talk About Dying?: Part 1

The pragmatic and practical end-of-life conversations

My surrogate grandmother, Lucille Ryman Carrol, whom I have written about from time to time, had a handwritten envelope on her nightstand, leaning against the table lamp, emblazoned with the message “When I Die.” Gulp. It was displayed the entire twelve years I knew her.

Lest you think she was a dour lady waiting for death, it was quite the opposite. Although her health was very fragile due to serious heart issues (a heart murmur and valve replacement) that kept her close to home, she was more full of life than people half her age. She read the newspaper cover to cover every day, always had a project on her table, and was constantly planning the next one.

She wasn’t listlessly waiting to die, but she was pragmatic, practical, and realistic.

Recently, I was telling this story to two close friends who were asking Andrea and me for our advice on handling his mom’s vague will and trust (we’ve unintentionally become experts). As I described the envelope, they looked at me with wide-eyed disbelief. Actually, they appeared horrified. She kept an envelope like that out in the open? Yup. Every day. For years.

Ironically, they found Lucille’s approach—which resulted in crystal clear directions—rather morbid, even though they had come to us for advice because his mother’s will was such a murky mess. It became abundantly clear over the course of the conversation that end-of-life matters had not been thoroughly discussed in his family. In fact, it was very uncomfortable and for some family members, an untouchable topic.

Andrea and I felt so bad for them because they were in danger of stirring up the proverbial hornet’s nest, potentially angering siblings with decisions that could have been avoided with better planning and discussion. Unfortunately, his mom hadn’t specified where she wanted to be buried, so there could be squabbling over that. She was very vague about the distribution of personal property—another tussle. Our friend had a pile of paperwork and a trove of unanswered questions, which put him in a difficult position as both Executor and Trustee.

We reflected on how much of a gift Lucille’s pragmatism and planning were. Although she had no blood relatives, the few of us who were her adopted family were grateful for her foresight and follow-through.

A practical gift
In Lucille’s audaciously inscribed envelope were all the plans for her death that she had put into place. There was the contact information for the mortuary, which was prepaid, as well as for the cemetery, which was also paid in full. She had selected her coffin, her plot, and nameplate, and specified precisely what sort of graveside mini-service she wanted…much to our dismay. We would have preferred a church service, but that wasn’t her wish.

There were directions to her will and trust, which were equally detailed. Since she had given away the majority of her estate in the decade leading up to her death and had nearly outlived her wealth, there was precious little to disperse. She was a masterclass in how to live well to die well.

Andrea’s father also created a business-like plan for his passing. He was finely detailed in his wishes and had all pertinent documents in place, which he organized into three individual binders complete with divider tabs for his children for clarity.

Likewise, before my mom moved in with us, she had already completed all the legal paperwork, such as Power of Attorney, Advance Directives, her Will and Trust, and even added me as a cosigner on her bank account, which gave me the necessary tools to take care of her without the headache of wrestling with the system.

Although executed differently, all three people gave us a tremendous gift in how they methodically prepared to die, eliminating the angst and turmoil our friends were facing. It was a powerful lesson in the importance of clear details about end-of-life matters and leaving loved ones with a legacy of love.

Forewarned is forearmed
Regrettably, it’s not a topic many people are comfortable talking about until they absolutely need it, and by then, it’s almost too late. Even possessing the basic knowledge of what the proper and necessary documents are, which is often made more complicated by the accompanying convoluted legal language, can be confusing for the majority of us.

However, it doesn’t have to be this way. No matter where you are in life’s cycle, you can take control, educate yourself, and take charge of these matters, both for yourself and for your parents if they need assistance.

The first step is to acknowledge the need and be open to discussing end-of-life planning in detail, which can be one of the most difficult things to do. Many people find this sort of conversation too morbid or frightening and avoid it altogether. That’s a hurdle to overcome because it’s simply unfair to leave these decisions to family and friends who aren’t prepared or aware of your wishes.

For myself, I still haven’t decided how I would want to be buried, and that’s not fair to Andrea or my son. So I have my own hurdle to jump! Andrea, on the other hand, wants to either have a Viking burial at sea or to be cremated and put in fireworks. I’m dreading both, so we have to settle on something more attainable!

Lessons I’ve learned
Once most people reach a certain age, they typically take the responsible step of creating a will and trust, but that doesn’t mean the documents are well-reasoned and detailed. Exhibit A, our friend’s mom’s ill-defined duo. If you have aging parents and haven’t broached the subject, review what they have in place before it’s too late and you still have time to rectify any problematic areas.

The following list of items was indispensable in my journey with my mom, Andrea’s father, and Lucille. You can also use this as a foundation for your own preparations…it’s never too early to start thinking, talking, and taking steps.

Documentation

• Create a Power of Attorney to handle all legal, medical, financial, and insurance matters if someone becomes incapable of making their own decisions. I had my mom’s scanned as well as printed and kept it accessible in case we had any emergencies.

• Have Advanced Directives, including a DNR (do not resuscitate) decision. This is a tough choice, but deciding how many life-saving procedures to perform is important. It’s a legal form that each state has, which outlines various treatment options and requires consent, along with the appointment of a guardian, all of which is signed and sometimes notarized. My mom’s was a bright pink form; I put it in a plastic sleeve and kept it on our phone table so I could grab it quickly.

• Compile a complete list of medications. The handful of times my mom was taken to the hospital, that was the first question I was asked. I remember one time I just threw all her bottles in a bag and took it with me. Today, I would probably have it all in an app I could reference.

• Draw up a meticulously detailed Last Will and Testament. A Will is a person’s wishes and, depending on the size of the family, it should be very, very explicit. Andrea’s dad had a thorough list of belongings that he divided among his offspring and friends. He had his burial plot and casket selected, and all materials meticulously ordered in a binder. There was no question about what his wishes were; hence, no squabbling. Similarly, my mom’s wishes were clearly stated. I knew she wanted to be cremated and buried with my Dad at an Army base in Arizona, and she had that paperwork in her folder that I could utilize when the time came.

• Establish a well-reasoned Trust. A Trust holds the valuable assets of an estate, typically property, brokerage and bank accounts, and other valuables, and it specifies how the assets are distributed. Technically, Trusts should submit a thorough annual accounting to their beneficiaries, thereby eliminating surprises at the end. Although my mom didn’t do that, her assets were very modest, and I knew their status intimately, but it is something that sizable estates should do and mind the minutiae. As a side note, in my opinion and from experience, if there is more than one beneficiary, I would appoint an impartial party as the Trustee such as a close family friend.

• Have a co-signer on bank accounts. This was invaluable so I could speak for my mom with the bank and sign checks.

Finally, this world can be utterly and totally confusing. To make informed decisions, do yourself a favor and get familiar with the terminology by looking up any words or phrases you don’t understand. With ChatGPT or other AI platforms, you can easily equip yourself with a wealth of information and knowledge.

Keepsakes
Not only did my mom and Lucille give away or bequeath most of their belongings before they passed, but they also wrote notes on the backs of many photos, keepsakes, and artwork, so we knew who the people were and what significance they held for the mementos. It was both comforting and a relief not to have to decide whether the items were of sentimental value or should be donated.

My next steps
The longevity space has these tongue-in-cheek mottos: “Don’t Die” and “How Not to Die.” I look at this quite differently; I think how we die is as important as how we live. With the grace of God, I plan on living well into my 90s, so while I’m not in a rush, it’s impudent to put these things off.

This has been a recent topic of conversation with Andrea and I; now that our son is over 18, we need to create a new Will and Trust that addresses him as an adult. Over the next five years, we will catalog our important artwork and memorabilia, and organize our photos, especially those of him and our family. We want to leave him a tidy package and, most importantly, peace of mind when we are gone. That’s the essence of living well, aging great.

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