During the four years or so that Epilawg has been in existence, there have been countless posts about the guiding principle behind the purpose of this blog: figuring out how to best write your own epilogue; planning the resolution to your own story. Over the years, various angles on Epilawg’s main topics have been presented; each post designed to think about how to get your life in order to plan for the inevitable . . . death. The posts here have aimed to provide practical, straightforward information on how best to plan your epilogue. However, we rarely discuss the emotional impact behind death.
And while I speak with clients on a daily basis about planning for their deaths, I too, rarely touch on the emotional impact of death in general. I tend to talk about it in the context of “when you die in your sleep, a long, long, long time from now after a very long life, surrounded by loved ones. . . .” I do this because it seems more manageable for me and others – young or old – to think about.
Unfortunately, not everyone dies after a very long life. Or surrounded by loved ones. Or in their sleep. We all know loved ones, acquaintances, strangers whose lives were cut short by an illness, accident or otherwise. No doubt, when any death occurs (even the type I describe to clients), there is sadness and grief, not simply an estate plan. I have recently been reminded of this due to the loss of a loved one, whose life ended too soon from cancer, and that no amount of estate planning or other practical preparation can prepare a family for the grief of losing the loved one.
Over the last 18 months, my family as a whole has gone through – and continues to – the stages of grief in dealing with the death of my uncle. The grief among my large family is palpable, complex and, I have no doubt, will have long lasting effects. I have seen my father, slowly, but surely, wrap his brain around the fact that he has lost the brother he is closest to. I have watched in awe as my aunt – with such grace and thoughtful decisiveness – navigated the heart wrenching complexities of watching her husband slowly succumb to the cancer that invaded his body, instead of planning the retirement they had worked so many years towards. And, with heavy hearts, the whole family has gently and tentatively watched over my grandmother, who has outlived another of her six children. There’s been denial, anger, depression and, for some – including my uncle – acceptance.
Going through and watching all of this emotion and has reiterated for me that, while planning and preparing to think about the logistical concepts around where your assets will go when you pass or what will happen to your business when you are ready to retire, are all good things to have in place . . . there’s still the emotional aspect to your epilogue: the family you will leave behind, the regrets you may have, and the unfulfilled plans for the future. So, embrace every moment with your loved ones, spend time with one another, communicate, do not take each other for granted. And, of course, plan. Life is short.
