How do you measure the concept of time? Most of us here, in the U.S.A. would say, “Silly question. We use years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes and seconds. How else would you measure time?”
Think about it. Yes, those are common measures of time. But, don’t we also measure time in the distance between events, regardless of the exact duration? I know that I do.
Like this blog. How long has it been since I blogged here? I could look at the date/time stamp on my last entry and know precisely but in my head, it’s more like hmmmm. . . “Not since summer began, and wow, summer’s nearly gone!” That’s my measure of time, the swift passing of the season.
How long has it been since I’ve seen my best friend? Again, I pause. “Not since that conference in Raleigh which was a year ago last fall. It’s been a long time!” It’s not a precise measure. I don’t go to the calendar to measure it accurately but, it does remind me that I anchor important events to each other and track time between them thinking of the distance as “recent” or “a long time ago.”
I also measure my day, especially at work, by the number of meetings it contains. A lot of meetings equals a long day; few meetings results in an easy or quick day. Sometimes, I measure by the number of trips campus-to-campus I need to make in order to accomplish my assigned chores. Odd ways to measure time, but I notice that I do it more often than I look at my watch or track back on the calendar.
So what? It’s important to regard time, and its natural passage, as a construct we all note, but not in the same way. A family of a hospitalized teen may say, “He hasn’t looked this bad since his last hospitalization.” Admission to admission; it is how they mark time.
The problem with marking time – any way you like – is that it can be discouraging to notice that a goal you’ve set or an achievement you’d hoped to attain by now is still not in your grasp. That’s been happening to me a lot lately.
Whether it’s a new weight-loss goal not yet accomplished or a course for school that I still have not put behind me, the disappointment reminds me that I mark time by my intentions too. I’ll throw that party when I’m done with school – thinking I know when that will be. Hmmm. . .time stretches out in front of me and I’m struck by its inevitable fluidity.
I’m wondering, how does this work as I peer into the future? Time flows out in all directions and I try to steer toward certain destinations, landmarks that tell me where I am, how far I’ve come and where I need to go next. It is less about distance than about consequence; less about lasting to the goal than about learning along the way.
So today, musing about what lies ahead, the directions I’ve chosen for myself and committed to, I’m aware of how little control I have over these matter! I can only invest the effort, set out on the journey, trust the process and pay attention to what happens. Will the achievements happen “on time?” Who knows? Perhaps mine is not the ultimate time-keeping method. Perhaps there is a rhythm to it all that I cannot yet hear or feel, a coursing of the waters that moves me at will and permits me only the illusion of being in charge of my life.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Six things I know for sure. . .
I just came home from a family gathering. It was not a fun, pleasant event. It was the memorial service for my brother-in-law and the first step in planning and negotiating about my sister’s future. My sister is disabled, mentally and physically; she has been all her adult life. Her injuries were acquired in her early twenties in a motor vehicle accident. She was married at the time. Most men would have fled. My brother-in-law stayed; for that he is a saint. He cared for her before she was injured, and he cared for her 24/7 after her injuries. Yet, when he died, there was no evidence of that care left.
He died while they were on vacation, in Mexico. He died without a will. He died without constructing a trust for her. He died without adding their only son (also an adult) to their bank account. He died without an executor. He died without leaving any instructions – no back-up plan for a situation he had managed alone for over 45+ years.
My sister was left alone with his body for days. She didn’t know what had happened to him. She didn’t receive her medications (which he always gave her). She didn’t know the chamber-maid who came in and discovered the body (since they should have checked out the previous day). She didn’t know the man from the American Consulate who managed to put her on a plane and send her back to her son in the USA. She didn’t know her house would be turned up-side down by family members trying to figure out what plans might be in place, what bills might be due, what steps to take on her behalf. She didn’t know what to say at his memorial – words are not part of her skill-set any more. She didn’t know we’d end up looking at assisted living facilities until we put her in the car and showed her around. She didn’t even know for sure who we all were who had descended on her home and upset her life and could not bring back her husband.
What this has taught me is: Life is busy for all of us, but we still have responsibilities that do not end at the grave. Each of us needs to own up to those responsibilities once we acknowledge them. These six things we each must attend to if we expect to leave our loved ones adequately supported in our absence.
1. Write a will. It does not matter whether you buy a template and fill it out, go to a lawyer and have it crafted to your specific needs, use a website and construct it on your own, but to die without a will means your state bureaucrats can do with your assets whatever they deem best. When has the state ever chosen what was best for you or your family? Best in the eyes of the state probably means best “for the state.” Surely, no one will fare well if the state directs your estate.
2. Give someone Power of Attorney. Do it now, before you need to. You can change your mind later but if you die without giving that authority to anyone, and your spouse dies with you or your spouse is so incapacitated that s/he can’t make good decisions, everything stops. Bills don’t get paid. You don’t get buried (or cremated, or whatever). Your house may go into foreclosure. You get the picture – a whole lot of nothing gets done. All the things you normally manage don’t get managed. Give someone you trust the authority to manage these things for you – for your family!
3. Tell family what’s what. If you have a mortgage (or two) on the house, someone needs to know that, and when the next payment is due. If you have a car loan or a boat loan, don’t let your son find out about it by meeting the re-po guy in the driveway; be honest, let your kids know now. If you have possessions that belong to someone else, give them back (your neighbor’s lawn mower in the garage; your co-worker’s laptop under the bed) your family shouldn’t have to play guessing games trying to figure out what is yours and what is someone else’s. They’ll have enough grief on their hands!
4. Keep your papers in order. No one should have to go searching through your desk drawers only to discover your current mortgage buried behind the map from your last vacation and the receipts from your fast-food binges. Your widow shouldn’t have to learn what your collection of watches is worth from the local appraiser who might love to swindle her out of that Rollex by telling her it’s a fake. Your kids shouldn’t discover that college is out of the question because all the time they thought you were putting money into their 529-plan, you really weren’t. And your widower shouldn’t have to figure out after your death that you were corresponding (secretly) with your college sweetheart when he finally does read your e-mails. Keep what will be needed. Get rid of what you don’t want to share. Don’t be the reason that anger is piled upon grief.
5. Put your assets into a trust. If your family needs resources (especially if they too are injured, ill, incapacitated, etc.) and you leave your “stuff” without constructing a trust, the “stuff” is of no use to them until probate is over and a lot of legal hurdles are cleared. With a trust, it is clear who you wish to take care of, how you want things managed, and hopefully, who can take charge in your absence.
6. Clean up your mess yourself. If your house is full of clutter, debris, and useless possessions, clean them out now. Leaving your old magazines piled up for friends and family to dispose of or your kitchen so greasy that no one else can healthfully cook or eat a meal there, or your bathroom so filthy that relatives have to scrub the counters before they can occupy or sell the house is in a word, irresponsible.
No, this litany does not represent the omissions of only my brother-in-law. The stories of many friends are woven into these six “musts” that have become a mission for me. I came home from my trip utterly overwhelmed with the work that is left to my nephew and other willing family members. I will not leave my house in such disorder. I can’t; my husband depends on me to put my life in order and together with him, to put our house in order, too. No one deserves to inherit our mess, our debris, our confusion. Our heirs deserve better and we will deliver!
He died while they were on vacation, in Mexico. He died without a will. He died without constructing a trust for her. He died without adding their only son (also an adult) to their bank account. He died without an executor. He died without leaving any instructions – no back-up plan for a situation he had managed alone for over 45+ years.
My sister was left alone with his body for days. She didn’t know what had happened to him. She didn’t receive her medications (which he always gave her). She didn’t know the chamber-maid who came in and discovered the body (since they should have checked out the previous day). She didn’t know the man from the American Consulate who managed to put her on a plane and send her back to her son in the USA. She didn’t know her house would be turned up-side down by family members trying to figure out what plans might be in place, what bills might be due, what steps to take on her behalf. She didn’t know what to say at his memorial – words are not part of her skill-set any more. She didn’t know we’d end up looking at assisted living facilities until we put her in the car and showed her around. She didn’t even know for sure who we all were who had descended on her home and upset her life and could not bring back her husband.
What this has taught me is: Life is busy for all of us, but we still have responsibilities that do not end at the grave. Each of us needs to own up to those responsibilities once we acknowledge them. These six things we each must attend to if we expect to leave our loved ones adequately supported in our absence.
1. Write a will. It does not matter whether you buy a template and fill it out, go to a lawyer and have it crafted to your specific needs, use a website and construct it on your own, but to die without a will means your state bureaucrats can do with your assets whatever they deem best. When has the state ever chosen what was best for you or your family? Best in the eyes of the state probably means best “for the state.” Surely, no one will fare well if the state directs your estate.
2. Give someone Power of Attorney. Do it now, before you need to. You can change your mind later but if you die without giving that authority to anyone, and your spouse dies with you or your spouse is so incapacitated that s/he can’t make good decisions, everything stops. Bills don’t get paid. You don’t get buried (or cremated, or whatever). Your house may go into foreclosure. You get the picture – a whole lot of nothing gets done. All the things you normally manage don’t get managed. Give someone you trust the authority to manage these things for you – for your family!
3. Tell family what’s what. If you have a mortgage (or two) on the house, someone needs to know that, and when the next payment is due. If you have a car loan or a boat loan, don’t let your son find out about it by meeting the re-po guy in the driveway; be honest, let your kids know now. If you have possessions that belong to someone else, give them back (your neighbor’s lawn mower in the garage; your co-worker’s laptop under the bed) your family shouldn’t have to play guessing games trying to figure out what is yours and what is someone else’s. They’ll have enough grief on their hands!
4. Keep your papers in order. No one should have to go searching through your desk drawers only to discover your current mortgage buried behind the map from your last vacation and the receipts from your fast-food binges. Your widow shouldn’t have to learn what your collection of watches is worth from the local appraiser who might love to swindle her out of that Rollex by telling her it’s a fake. Your kids shouldn’t discover that college is out of the question because all the time they thought you were putting money into their 529-plan, you really weren’t. And your widower shouldn’t have to figure out after your death that you were corresponding (secretly) with your college sweetheart when he finally does read your e-mails. Keep what will be needed. Get rid of what you don’t want to share. Don’t be the reason that anger is piled upon grief.
5. Put your assets into a trust. If your family needs resources (especially if they too are injured, ill, incapacitated, etc.) and you leave your “stuff” without constructing a trust, the “stuff” is of no use to them until probate is over and a lot of legal hurdles are cleared. With a trust, it is clear who you wish to take care of, how you want things managed, and hopefully, who can take charge in your absence.
6. Clean up your mess yourself. If your house is full of clutter, debris, and useless possessions, clean them out now. Leaving your old magazines piled up for friends and family to dispose of or your kitchen so greasy that no one else can healthfully cook or eat a meal there, or your bathroom so filthy that relatives have to scrub the counters before they can occupy or sell the house is in a word, irresponsible.
No, this litany does not represent the omissions of only my brother-in-law. The stories of many friends are woven into these six “musts” that have become a mission for me. I came home from my trip utterly overwhelmed with the work that is left to my nephew and other willing family members. I will not leave my house in such disorder. I can’t; my husband depends on me to put my life in order and together with him, to put our house in order, too. No one deserves to inherit our mess, our debris, our confusion. Our heirs deserve better and we will deliver!
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