When Colby was six weeks old, I had to take a business trip to Hawaii (seriously), and Douglas wanted to join me. We were advised to have a will drawn up before we left. Although we didn’t have many worldly possessions (no house, car or diamond tiaras), we understood that we needed to name a guardian for our baby if something happened to us.
It’s thirty-one years later, and while I don’t need a guardian for my 31 and 29-year-old “kids,” I still need a will. The will explains how I want my possessions divided (right down the middle) and what happens if (God forbid) my kids and I perish together. Even without a will, Colby and Simone would automatically be entitled to inherit my estate (that word always sounds like someone is a Rockefeller or an Astor), because I’m divorced and they are my next of kin. But the will still makes the process easier.
I also have a living will, which explains that I don’t want to be kept alive by “artificial means or heroic measures…” if my medical condition is “hopeless, my deterioration irreversible or the maintenance of my life an overwhelming responsibility for my family.”
The reason I decided to blog about this right now is because I signed a new will and a living will today. My FOF lawyer, Ellyn Mittman, drafted a new will for me because the old version was outdated (you should review your will every five years or if your financial situation changes dramatically, she advised.)