The first time my parents handed me the white envelope, I played dumb. They were about to take their first trip overseas in a post 9/11 world, leaving my then-teenaged brother stateside. Inside, I knew, were instructions on how to “take care of him.”
Studies have shown 70 percent of Americans don’t have any sort of last will and testament or even informal instructions for after they die. The least likely to have anything? Us. Parents with young children.
I know I don’t want to think about the day my daughter will face the world without me, no more than I wanted to think about losing my parents in the event of a plane crash. But when my brother hit 18, the white envelope disappeared. My parents were still parents, but they no longer had to protect a minor from being sucked into the child welfare system because his mom and dad forgot to set up a plan for his care.
Believe it or not, it’s easier to kick off without a will in the days post-diapers and Stride Rite shoes, when you actually have two nickels to leave behind. Aaack – whoever said being a young parent you had it made, huh?
My husband and I have spent a lot of time debating how you can pick the person who your kids might one day call their “other mother?” Do we pick the grandparents who live nearby so her life isn’t disrupted? The uncle who is younger and has the longest expected time left on this earth (once he gets over being 21)?
I found these tips from a law firm that just compounded our questions. Do we make her the sole benefactor? Do we set it up for her to be handed the keys to the safe deposit at 18? Will she be responsible at 21 (see above: uncle who hasn’t gotten over being 21)?
Let’s see, she’s 3 right now, so we’ll get around to it . . . sometime in the next 15 years.
Image: Isabella Perry
