Caring For Those You Leave Behind

No one ever envisions a sudden death happening to them. Consequently, drafting up a will tends to be the furthest thing from the mind. However, if you are part of the family left behind, dealing with emotional loss is just the beginning of a long, difficult and challenging road ahead. I know this because I speak from experience.  

A dear relative of mine passed away suddenly. Younger than me, he had never been married, left behind no children, and never created a will. His death created a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities none of my family was prepared to deal with.    

His small personal belongings were easily given away, but it took almost a year of court visits and attorney interventions before the estate was finally settled. Among his larger assets were a house in foreclosure, a laundry list of medical bills, three trucks, bank & savings accounts, and a retirement fund.  

It did not have to happen this way. Nonetheless, it was a lesson learned for the rest of the family: death can happen at any moment. And the best gift you can leave behind for those you love is a will, with its additional gifts of a HIPAA form, DNR, Medical Power of Attorney, and all the necessary information about your business(es), such as who to contact, logins & passwords. 

While all that information was gathered from my parents when they passed away, the circumstances were different. They were in their old age and we had time to prepare for their deaths. When not expecting death at our door, however, we think we are young, we think we have tomorrow to take care of details, we think it will not happen to us. Not always. 

So, when should you prepare a will? 

When you get married and/or have children?

When you have equity in a business? 

When you buy a house? 

When you have a retirement account? 

When you are aware of your own imminent death? 

When you have specifics about after-life accommodations? 

Now. 

The answer will never be that you do not need one.  Since laws vary by state, I highly recommend an attorney be the one to finalize your will, along with any necessary documents should you become incapacitated or die. An unofficial may not hold up in court, and can ultimately cause greater distress to your loved ones. Take the time to dot your i’s and cross your t’s.  

A will simply designates how your remaining estate is handled in the event of death, but these documents do not go into effect until you die. Should you become incapacitated and unable to be your own advocate, you will need documents that appoint someone you trust to oversee your care and estate, including your business.  

The provided packet from my attorney included the following: 

          1. A Will

          2. Directive to Physicians and Family or Surrogates

          3. Declaration of Guardian in the Event of Later Incapacity

          4. Medical Power of Attorney

          5. Statutory Durable Power of Attorney

          6. HIPAA Release

Along with these official documents, I have created an Estate Worksheet that lists all my financial accounts, life insurance policies, personal property, etc.   

In my book, Matters Of The Heart, I include a Family Toolbox, which is a list of informational documents that will help your family in the advent of your passing and is available with the book to download online. I have used them for my own estate and hope by doing so, will make my estate closing easier. 

I also address the necessity of family meetings to gather information for an aging loved one, which does happen to include everyone.  Use a family meeting because “one person may remember something for the medical history form that no one else remembers. Everyone hears the same information, which, therefore, helps everyone be on the same page. During the initial family meeting would be a fantastic starting point to get everything, and everyone, organized.” 

I currently have annual meetings with my family to review any changes to what has already been established. While it may sound a little morbid, since I still consider myself young and am not yet elderly, I have seen and experienced the deep heartache that can be caused by not having a will or your wishes communicated to those who love you.   

Maybe you’re reading this and thinking, “I already have a will,” but is this will up to date?  Have you included the HIPAA Release form? What about a complete list of necessary account logins and passwords? All changes in your business? Is everything organized in one place for easy access? Would any remaining family know where to access this information? 

If you can leave behind one gift, let it be the gift of organization to those you love.  

For more information or to purchase Susan’s book Matters Of The Heart... 

Step Away From the Intensity of Caregiving

On March 21^st, 9-1-1, a new show on FOX, aired the latest episode, “A Whole New You.” There has been a compelling story line into the trials and tribulations of family caregiving. In fact, that is the story line that drew me into the show.

Abby, one of the show’s protagonists, is a caregiver for her mother, Patricia Clark, who has Alzheimer’s. The scenes between mother and daughter portray the difficult, 24/7 emotional battle that is homecare. Viewers are given a brief glimpse into the unexpected outcomes of caregiving; how it doesn’t matter if you had prior plans when you are needed, how anything can happen at any time, and how emotionally draining and life altering an experience it really is. 

In the previous episode “Trapped,” Patricia lashes out and delivers Abby a slap so unexpected, even the audience could feel its sting. The scene cuts particularly close to the intensity and depth of hurt that inevitably happens when caring for our aging loved ones. That episode ends with Abby finding her mother passed away in the hospital bed she had set up in her own living room. “A Whole New You” picks up that story line as Abby is left to grapple with the powerful force of grief and the fog that follows.

At the end of the episode, in an emotionally raw moment, Abby states, “I no longer know who I am.” I paused the scene and revisited the emotion I felt when my Mom died. A few deep breaths later, I realized how much Abby’s pain resonated with me and my sixteen years of caregiving. This great script writing has to be from someone who experienced caregiving and the acting excellently portrays the raw emotions. 

A Caregiver is truly who I became. The longer the job went on, the more it consumed every facet of my life, while my old self slowly faded away. Then, suddenly when my primary focus of caregiving was complete, it was final. Planning around doctor visits, declining friend’s invites, overseeing my parent’s calendars more than my own and in the blink of an eye it all became non-existent. My main purpose of life left me like Abby - I no longer knew who I was. It was the intensity of a tornado and its sudden end.

March 20th designated seven years since Mom passed away. Caregiving changed me in ways I never imagined. There are bits of myself and things I once enjoyed that are still slow to return. 

My life was severely altered for sixteen years, with the weight of care giving primarily on my shoulders. I was not the same person who entered caregiving that exited that day, though I had put several stakes in the ground, emotional bread crumbs to come back to when caregiving was finished.

Seven years later, life has moved on. Some days are great, while some are not. I believe that is true of most people, regardless of whether caregiving was or is part of their life. Then again, it would be hard for me to gauge.

I do know that seven years later, I still occasionally feel emotional exhaustion. If it is anything like putting on weight, it may be a while until feeling fully refreshed. I make sure to choose activities to aid me along. Digging in dirt working in flower beds, getting my car washed, maintaining a clean house, cleaning out closets and drawers, going to baseball games, enjoying the company of friends over dinner, and laughing as much as possible. Laughing – now, that is refreshingly good for the soul.

In the chapter, “Frustration: Patience is Truly a Virtue,” of my book, Matters of The Heart, I wrote:

“The ballpark is the one place I could go, have a hotdog and a drink, and not think about anything except baseball. It quickly became my refuge from the stresses of caregiving. There are 81 home games every year.  I bet we went to at least 65 home games that first year. It was the one sense of normalcy that I had and I clung to it. They were my outlet – win or lose.

There must be outlets when you are the primary caregiver. One time, I wrote a list of all the things that made me feel good on separate slips of paper and put them in a jar. When I felt overwhelmed, I would pick one.

My favorite was a massage. Another was getting my car washed. Another was sitting outside in the sun. Another was taking a long hot soaking bath with a glass of wine, and nice bubbles or bath salts. Another was burying myself in a favorite fiction author. Another was going to the movie and buying popcorn.”

Like Abby, I did not learn enough about the necessity of stepping away from the intensity more often and was frequently overwhelmed by the angst and heartache that comes with caregiving. I could measure the burden severity, when taking time to step away, by whether I listened to the radio on my seven hour drive to my timeshare condo on North Padre Island. No radio meant I needed the silence. With every mile driven, I was liberated by the thought of all the stress being blown out the window, under the tires, and rolled right over.

If you find yourself in the intensity of caregiving, take opportunities to step away. It took some arranging, but when I stepped away, I did not communicate with home. As caregivers, we are enslaved to our phones. It is often an addiction. It is our emotional lifeline. And, yet, it is more debilitating and detrimental to our lives than we realize. It is an exhausting, emotional reminder of all that entangles us, either consciously or not. Constant accessibility is not always emotionally healthy for anyone.

Step Away. Make it happen for the sake of you! Let everyone know you will not be available. If it is an emergency, use a 9-1-1 text code, but inform everyone who consumes your life that it best be an emergency.

Truly step away – even if just for a day. It does not have to be extravagant. Go to a museum. Drive through the mountains. Get a massage. Hike a trail. Take a chair to a park, have a picnic and listen to the birds.

It is your day – spend it doing something you have always wanted to do, or something you may not have done in a while. It is not the time to grocery shop or run errands. Enjoy your time. In joy, step away.

Warning: The deeper you need to disconnect and step away, the harder it will be. You will be tempted to continue your enslavement with accessibility. That is the addiction entanglement. Speaking from experience, that is not optimizing your much needed break. If I knew the bases were covered, I often put my phone in airplane mode. Sometimes I even recorded a custom voicemail:  “So great to hear from you. Please leave a message but I have stepped away for a few days and will not be returning phone calls until Monday. If this is an emergency, please call _____. Thanks!”

Abby recognized the necessity of stepping away before it affected one specific valued relationship. The intensity of caregiving affects all our relationships, not just the one being cared for.  If it changes us, it is a given that it will change all our relationships with others.

Stepping away is connecting with the “you” that you enjoyed before the intensity of caregiving. Stepping away is at best a self-preservation mode, preserving you, your sanity, your relationships, your attitude, your life, et al.

Stepping away is an art-form worth learning.   

If you want to read more about my dealings with Matters of The Heart, you can find my book here.