Get It Together: Organize Your Records So Your Family Won’t Have To Ninth Edition

Book Preface

My mother died unexpectedly a few years ago. She had fallen and broken her leg. We knew, of course, that no one dies from a broken leg. But her mending was slow and difficult—a difficulty that, blessedly, foreshadowed her death. One blessing was that I knew I needed to spend more time with her, to share with her, to listen more closely. Another blessing was the nagging sense that I should be asking some tough questions:
Where is that burial plot you and Dad purchased years ago? Where is the paperwork?
What kind of funeral service do you want?
Whom should we call for help winding up your estate—an attorney, a financial adviser, your insurance agent?
With the answers to these questions jotted down in a notepad, my siblings and I were marginally prepared for the dawn of Mom’s passing. We didn’t find the paperwork for the cemetery plot; it wasn’t where she thought she had filed it. We were awash in a sea of decisions and telephone calls, each of which needed to be made in the first day or two. And we were in shock, moving into unfamiliar, Mom-less territory.

With this experience as a backdrop, I began to get my own affairs in order. I started the process with one goal in mind: Creating a planner to make my death far less burdensome for my daughters. I wanted to provide some direction, reducing their confusion in the first hours, days, and weeks. Yet, as the process unfolded, I found that helping my children was only the first of three benefits.
The second benefit was that, when document-ing information, organizing materials, and making end-of-life arrangements, I was often thinking of my own eventual death. As sad as that made me, I soon moved on, taking with me this truth: Facing the certainty of death generates a freedom to live life more fully. I am less fearful about death and more joyful about life. I am increasingly aware of the precious moments that I have been given—and of the finite nature of that grant.

Living out my days as though each might be my last is a wake-up call, a call to be more fully aware of each day. Living each of my remaining days with attention and appreciation is an enormous challenge—and a marvelous gift.

The third benefit was a simple one: a bounty of relief and satisfaction at having my affairs in order. Despite my innate tendency to organize, I found that my portfolio—birth certificate to retirement benefits to final arrangements—was a thing of beauty. Never before had my insur-ance policies been gathered in one location—including even the accident policy offered with my major credit card. The process of pulling together my documents, information, and wishes has helped me to feel informed, up to date, and in control of my affairs.

• to reduce the eventual, inevitable burden on your loved ones
• to help you experience the freedom
of facing your mortality, addressing unfinished business, and valuing your days, and
• to convey my hope that you will enjoy the satisfaction of organizing your affairs.

May you find direction, organization, and a certain freedom in the process of creating your planner. Ultimately, may your loved ones find direction, solace, and love in the planner that you leave behind.