That Conversation

[scarlettina]

It's been a helluva year. With death and serious illness in my social circle, and my striking a half century in age, it seemed like it was time for me to do something enormously adult and, frankly, quite sobering: get my affairs in order. That's the euphemism many of us use for writing a will and thinking about The End. I was scheduled to have a meeting with an attorney about it last night. That meant that I had to call my brother yesterday and Have the Conversation.

Which conversation? The one about who will be the executor of the will. The one about who will oversee my health care wishes. The one about what to do with my body once I vacate the premises.

So I got on the phone with him. For reasons I won't get into here, I had to have this conversation during the day, which meant calling from work--from my shared office. So the woman with whom I share an office got to overhear this conversation. I didn't care, honestly. What we discussed didn't feel especially private to me--but then, as my brother said to me, he and I have been living with an awareness of mortality since I was 11 and he was 9. We are conversant in the vocabulary of end-of-life matters and pretty comfortable with it. (For me, the hardest stuff is what comes before if illness is involved, but that's another post for another time.) He was barbecuing chicken while we talked; somehow, that struck me as enormously funny.

It was an interesting conversation. My brother, it turned out, had made the same assumptions I had: that because it was just him and me, he'd be my executor and I'd be his. We discussed other elements, like what to do with my body once I was done with it, and who would be my health care proxy if I couldn't make my own choices. He was funny about the body issue; he said, "Jan, if you want your body dragged around town behind six white horses, I'll make sure it happens; it's your decision." While that hadn't been my first thought, I admit to having given it consideration once he suggested it! It has a certain je ne sais quoi that appeals to me.

What was also interesting about the conversation were the things he'd assumed about me that weren't, in the end, correct. Some of my own decisions surprised me, but from a practical standpoint they make the most sense for me. (I'm not going to share them here; while I'm comfortable talking about all of this in general, I do not wish to post the details of my decisions publicly.) Such conversations require thought, but they provoke thought as well. (This distinction is important; one thought leads to another, and often those thoughts are unexpected and unwelcome.) Things one might not consider with a cursory glance become clear and more complex upon deeper study. I should note that some of that study may reveal uncomfortable truths about one's life--who will be left behind, who will or won't visit a grave if one is buried, and so forth. Also, who will take care of my kitty.

Most important of all is that I made a point to discuss all those assumptions with him. One of the most difficult lessons I learned in the wake of my mother's death is that Felix Unger was right: When you assume, you make an ass of you and me. My mother assumed that my aunt and uncle would be the executors of her will, but she never asked them. She just named them, and when they found out that they were named, they were unhappy and clearly put out at the imposition. And they let 19-year-old me know. I vowed at that point that I'd never assume anything about this stuff. It's too sensitive and too important.

So we talked, he and I. And then he went and ate his chicken, and I hung up and went back to work. Or tried to. My coworker said to me, "It's so funny: as soon as you got on the phone your New York accent came back . . . but, ew, you were talking about death!" And I said to her, "Yep, it happens to us all." She said she hadn't known what to do; should she put on her headphones or something? I apologized if she felt uncomfortable but at that point, I didn't feel like it was especially private, and to please not worry. And I apologized again for any discomfort. She was fine with it.

The truth is, when death comes, we all learn about the decisions our family and friends have made anyway. We are meat; we are dust. But wills are contracts that take care of business. And the conversations that surround their creation help to set expectations so that people have an idea of what's coming and what to do in the event. These conversations are important, and ultimately, they're a kindness. They let your loved ones know that you've got a handle on things; they provide if not the reality then at least the illusion of some control. But they also are a way of telling your loved ones that when they feel their most vulnerable, you've made some accommodation; they won't be alone. You're still there, wrapping things up, even if it's only your will (literally and figuratively) and not you.

------------------

The Met Life web site provides an excellent, basic explanation of the elements of a will and the considerations to think about when you're preparing to put one together.

The Mayo Clinic site provides a basic explanation of living wills and advance health directives, something else to think about carefully (and something I need to discuss with my lawyer).

Comments

[livingdeadpan.livejournal.com]

Yeah, we did all that while Ellen was cooking. Her brother is our executor, being the only sibling among us, but ... the idea of not asking your executor first seems amazingly rude.

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

I think that, in my mother's case, it wasn't rudeness but rather a fear of confrontation (with my aunt, with whom these conversations were always a confrontation, never a collaboration), and a fear of mortality. My father died only 13 years into their marriage, a relatively young man. By the time my mother had the emotional werewithal to think about these things, I suspect she was already no longer healthy and scared to pieces about what was yet to come. I think she did the best she could under the circumstances, but obviously, it would have been better if she'd asked first.

My issue, frankly, is my aunt laying the guilt on me about it. I was 19, a freshly-minted orphan; I had no idea there even was a will, and I had no idea what was to come next. No one talked to me about anything. If my mother didn't handle her will well, my aunt handled her relationship with me (in this as in many other ways) much, much more poorly.

[shelly-rae.livejournal.com]

Good work. Making a will may be hard but dealing with all that without a will is much more complicated. Which reminds me.....
Anon

[holyoutlaw.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the links re further information.

[mabfan.livejournal.com]

This is an excellent post. As you know, I've been dealing with the same thoughts in a matter-of-fact way since my father died when I was 20. And we have our plans set to take care of the children when the time comes.

As this is a public post, may I share it with others?

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

Absolutely. That was part of the point. People need to know and think about this stuff.

[mabfan.livejournal.com]

I have shared it on FB. Thank you.

[joycemocha.livejournal.com]

We wrote wills a long time ago, when our son was very young. After dealing with both sets of parents dying and seeing the differing reactions of our families, we wanted to make sure that our wishes about how he was to be reared, who would have custody of our son should both of us die, and what was to be done with our estate would be handled in a sane manner (IOW, there were people in our families we wanted nowhere near our son or our money). Doesn't hurt that I spent several years working as a paralegal and had taken some classes about family issues, probate, and estate planning.

In the same tone, once he became an adult, we then revised said wills. The other piece of maintaining a will is that you need to update them as circumstances change. The frequency of review will be affected by individual circumstances.

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

My current plan is that, absent any major life changes, I'm going to review mine once every five years. Sometimes things change without one's realizing it, so I figure a regular review is a good idea if, for no other reason than to ensure your personal views haven't changed while you weren't looking.

[prettyshrub.livejournal.com]

Bah, I have definitely been avoiding the health directive, even though the doctor's office brings it up every time I have an appointment. I should get this squared away so I know my kitties are cared for and my friends notified and any other wishes are carried out.

[kateelliott.livejournal.com]

A sober and excellent post. Also, I always love reading about your relationship with your brother.

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

:: chuckle :: OK, here's another nugget for you then. We were discussing what to do with my body after my death. Further along from the comments above, I said to him, "Steve, if you bury me in Seattle, who's going to come to visit me? Or were you planning to fly my body across the country to bury me on Long Island? What would the point of that expense be?"

"You sound like an old Jewish mother," he said. "Don't mind me, I'll just sit here alone in the dark."

When he was in third grade, a teacher asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. All the other kids said things like "fireman," "soldier," "race car driver." He said, "Stand-up comedian." That's my bro.

[kateelliott.livejournal.com]

Haha. My favorite light bulb joke!!!

Body Disposal

[margaret organ-kean (from livejournal.com)]

If you get cremated, I'll be happy to file you in my library.

[singingnettle.livejournal.com]

IHG has a family plot in Michigan, and I keep telling him, "I am NOT spending eternity in Michigan." (Although his family being his family, I think they have only a plot for him, not for his wife.)

[janetfreeman.livejournal.com]

Thanks for a thoughtful post. So many people dodge these discussions until too late. It is especially important to keep the healthcare directive updated, as medical advances raise new legal issues every few years.

As a writer, what have you learned about literary estates?

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

About literary estates, not much so far. I expect to learn a great deal more after my trip, when I'll have time to dig deeper. It's actually something I need to investigate for two reasons. I've been asked to be someone's literary executor, and I need to identify someone to be mine.

[singingnettle.livejournal.com]

I need to identify someone to be a photographic executor, and IHG needs an IP executor...something to learn about here, as well.

[torreybird.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the reminder, and for the links.

[mevennen.livejournal.com]

It's important. My partner died, quite suddenly, without leaving a will and we were lucky that it wasn't very problematic. I made mine some years ago, and T brought his up to date when he had cancer. It does save a lot of hassle.

[sinthrex.livejournal.com]

This is one of those interesting conversations people have, when you realize that everyone isn't like you.

I don't know whether by being raised by my grandmother, or the vagaries of my job for most of the last 2 decades, but the capriciousness of death somehow always seems present, and so there has always been a will.

Thank you for sharing the story.

PS: NY accent FTW!

[claireeddy.livejournal.com]

Thank you for such a thoughtful and lovely post.

And crap, yes, a thing I have to deal with :). You are right of course, it is the adult thing to do. I have to keep reminding myself that I am one of these creatures...

[garyomaha.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing a thoughtful post.

And now, a little lightness, if I may...

Years ago, one of the first persons I came out to was the wife of a good friend. For whatever reason, I was more comfortable at the time telling her than telling him.

"What do we tell John we were talking about?"
"Just use the expression, 'I was seeing a man about a horse.' That's our codeword to butt out."
"Okay. A horse."

Much laughter ensued, and the word stuck -- forever more, "horse" to the two of us has meant "gay." We still use it today.

So...when you wrote "if you want your body dragged around town behind six white horses" I thought about the possibilities and cracked up.

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

I will never think of this word the same way again. If you want to be part of the party that drags my body around town, I shall have to arrange it with other ... horses of my acquaintance.... ::Hee::

Advance directives and healthcare agents

[the-same-andrew.livejournal.com]

I think the Mayo page's statement that:

[c]hoosing a person to act as your health care agent is possibly the most important part of your planning. You need to trust that this person has your interests at heart, understands your wishes and will act accordingly. He or she should also be mature and levelheaded, and comfortable with candid conversations...

...deserves emphasis. Advance Directives, however meticulous in their crafting, are still interpreted by human decision-makers at the bedside, none of whom can entirely escape their own agendas and biases. A health care agent is a voice on your side, when you can't speak for yourself.

I've joked that DNR should really be DNETAAR, or Do Not Even Think About Attempting Resuscitation. But so often, it's all moot. Resuscitation doesn't work nearly as often as we want it to, and "survival" is such a relative term. Everybody needs to sober up about this. I expect that once I'm at the end of the line, in the process of dying, I myself--body, brain, and soul--will serve finally as a training aid. (This is fitting, I suppose. I'm certainly okay with it.) However futile the procedures and practices inflicted on whatever remains of my carcass and consciousness, the noobs will learn and the old hands will teach, and maybe the knowledge and skill thus transferred will help salvage someone more viable and deserving.

If you have time to read books, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one (http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/189-3053847-9071139?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Sudden+Death+and+the+Myth+of+CPR), by this guy (http://www.soc.ucla.edu/professors/STEFAN%20TIMMERMANS/?id=58), which I found spiritually quite helpful. I'm not religious, but there it is.

It's good to hear that you talked about this difficult subject with your brother; hopefully neither of you will need to put it to use any time soon.

Re: Advance directives and healthcare agents

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

Interesting referral to that book. I'm genuinely curious and now want to read it. I know two people who died despite extended CPR so this is interesting to me.

Regarding the advance health directive: this is why my brother has not been designated my health care advocate. I do trust him to follow my wishes, but I don't trust what my being in extremis might do to him. He was a little surprised by this decision but he respected it, which I respect him for doing. He's awesome that way.

And yes, I hope neither of us will have to test any of this work any time in the near future.

The only thing you should prepare for with certainty

[the-same-andrew.livejournal.com]

Everybody has their whole life, to prepare for the fact that everybody dies-- and the implications that follow therefrom. Funny how stressed we still get about it.

Anytime CPR is described as, "extended," it's a good predictor of poor outcome. Every culture has its death rituals; ours we call "resuscitation."

(Of course, resuscitation is not always futile, but futile resuscitation is often an ugly thing to watch.)

Time

[coffeedaiv.livejournal.com]

I never thought much about these issues. A bit when I was married, but it never really came up.
But in recent years, between acquiring step daughters and discovering bio daughters... and the fact that my parents are getting on in age, is making this harder and harder to ignore. And it is probably increasingly important that I don't.
Thanks so much for reminding me. ;=)
And, in all seriousness, thank you for the links.

Re: Time

[scarlettina.livejournal.com]

You're very welcome, Daiv. I hope it's all useful.

[singingnettle.livejournal.com]

IHG and I need to deal with these things, too.

You know, I started to say more and it just got so ugly and vitriolic I had to delete all of it. The story behind that is that no one in my family is willing to be an executor, and we don't even have anything to execute (although we will probably own a house soon). And I find that I'm so enraged about that that I can't even talk about it.

Be that as it may, IHG and I have to work out some arrangement, soon. I've lost three friends in the last month, and it's quite a reminder that none of us is immortal.