Consider this Conversation
“Everyone knows they’re going to die,” he said again, “but nobody believes it.
If we did, we would do things differently.”
~ Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie
It never came easy or felt natural for me to talk with my parents about the hard things. They were raised during a time when people just didn’t discuss certain topics and they brought that mindset with them into their parenting style.
Sex? Never. What were they like as a teenager? Nope. Death? Please, no.
I, on the other hand, longed to talk about everything. I was curious to learn and understand and have things explained. I yearned for connection and deep, inquisitive conversations.
Thank God for Judy Blume and Margaret.
Over the course of our lives, we developed a rhythm to our dialogue. I kept things high-level so they wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. I dimmed my investigative nature so they wouldn’t have to talk about things they didn’t feel comfortable talking about. I conformed so they wouldn’t have to.
Needless to say, many conversations that should have been had, were not.
In 2018 my father was diagnosed with cancer. This discovery arrived as a bombshell, and to say he didn’t take it well would be an understatement.
90% of people say that talking with their loved ones about end-of-life care is important.
27% have actually done so.
I, however, who was passionately optimistic and wanted him to remain positive and have the mindset that he could beat it, never wanted to ask him if his affairs were in order as I felt that would imply I believed the worst was going to happen. He never spoke to me about his wishes. He never told me where he wanted to be laid to rest or what was to become of his beloved saxophone.
My dad passed in May of 2020 without he and I having any of those conversations and it’s been hard reconciling that. He left no will, and I was left feeling bereft and abandoned. I felt like, regardless of my age, he was still my dad, and he was supposed to tell me what he wanted so I didn’t have to try and guess or make decisions under duress or from an emotionally charged place. I was left with the regret of unanswered questions.
As I write this, my mom is currently in the hospital battling COVID. Because she’s having trouble breathing, she’s having trouble speaking.
Conversations that we should have had, were not.
Now, I’m not here to flood you with sadness or drown you in guilt. My goal is to inspire a conversation about having hard conversations.
60% of people say that making sure their family is not burdened by tough decisions is extremely important.
56% have not communicated their end-of-life wishes.
I am a mother; I have two grown sons. I have tried to do things differently with my boys. From the time they were small, I’ve tried to provide a safe space for any and all types of dialogue. I didn’t want them to have to rummage around in the dark searching for answers. I wanted to be real and honest. I wanted them to know we could talk about the hard things. I wanted them to know that if we didn’t know the answers, we could find them together.
Parenting comes with never-ending responsibility. One of those responsibilities is to talk with them about the hard things. By initiating these conversations, you are saying yes to acknowledging the realities of life. By holding space and being open with the uncomfortableness and vulnerability while you are of sound mind and body, you are alleviating the need to have to do it when you may not have the capacity to do so. These conversations can feel extremely stressful and complicated when faced with a diagnosis. And, depending on the situation, you may not be allowed the luxury of getting to have a conversation at all.
You have a responsibility to inform them of your wishes in advance of illness or catastrophe. You have got to talk about the messy stuff, so when it comes, it doesn’t feel as scary. When you talk about the messy stuff before it gets messy, you help prepare a clearer path for emotions and feelings that need to be felt during any loss or transition the space they need to do what they need to do without the confusion and worry and wonder mixed in with the logistics or details.
Within weeks of my dad’s passing, I began a conversation with my sons. I vowed to have this conversation annually to help avoid awkwardness in the future. My intent is that by continuing to engage in open and ongoing dialogue, I hope to release them from the burden of having to ask me someday if my affairs are in order.
This conversation doesn’t need to be heavy or gloomy. Perhaps consider having it on your half birthday once a year. By setting aside an hour a year to talk about the harder stuff, you are creating a safe and secure space for your future self, and your family, to be free of the weight of unanswered questions.
82% of people say it’s important to put their wishes in writing.
23% have actually done so.
Four Most Critical Documents
(Make sure these are updated at least every five years.)
Advanced Directive
Outlines instructions or life sustaining measures that you do or do not personally want.
Power of Attorney
Allows an appointed person to act on your behalf.
HIPAA Authorization Form
Allows medical personal to share specific health information about you with others.
Durable Power of Attorney
Allows an appointed person the ability to make decisions on your behalf in case of a medical emergency, cognitive decline later in life, or other situations where you're no longer capable of making decisions.
Leave a Roadmap
Make sure someone has a key to your house and knows how to get in.
If you have a home security code, does someone know it?
Let someone know where you keep the title to your car, mortgage information, birth certificates, insurance policies, and any important documents, legal or otherwise.
Passwords to your online accounts. Where are they? Does someone know how to log in to your computer? Do you have any accounts set up with auto pay?
Do you have a life insurance policy? Be sure someone knows the policy information. Are your beneficiaries up to date and accurate?
Transfer on death (TOD) account automatically transfers its assets to a named beneficiary when the holder dies. No waiting for a will to be read; no waiting for a probate process. It’s a very simple step done right through your bank. There are no hoops to jump through. This will help keep the house payment current and the lights on.
When your child turns 18, you no longer have authority over your child’s medical and financial affairs. At a minimum you should have a POA and an Advanced Directive for them.
Create a will.
Discuss any legacy wishes.
Consider making a list or binder or a shareable document of important contacts.
(By no means is this a thorough or complete list. This a let’s-get-you-organized-and-get-you-thinking about having your own conversations and developing your own personal roadmap for you and your family.)
I just sent my sons a calendar invite for January 29th, 2022. That’s my half birthday. Maybe we’ll hike while we chat, or perhaps we’ll share a meal and sip some wine. All I do know is we will continue having these conversations while we can. When we know better, we do better. When hard lessons come our way, we can use them as fuel and motivation for change.
Wishing you a smooth road paved with longevity, peace, and many, many meaningful conversations.