Planning ahead

Here’s the kind of thing that happens more often than anyone expects.

A couple in their thirties. Two kids. One joint account, and one account in her name that the mortgage happens to come out of. She dies suddenly. He has a death certificate, a marriage certificate, and no authority over the account that pays for the house.

It can take months to untangle. Nobody did anything wrong. One form was never signed, and a grieving person spends the first season of loss on hold.

Planning ahead is how you spare them that.

• Couples building a life together, who realize they don’t know each other’s wishes.
• New and expecting parents, who need to answer the question of who would raise their children.
• Adult children of aging parents, who’ve seen up close what happens when nothing is written down. I can work with parents and their grown children together.
• People living alone, whose friends and family would otherwise have to piece everything together from scratch.
• Anyone who has been through a hard death in their family and wants it to go differently next time.

Advance healthcare directive. Who speaks for you if you can’t, and what you’d want them to say. The conversation with that person matters as much as the form.

Guardianship. Who would raise your kids. Whether that person knows. Whether they’ve said yes out loud, and what they’d need from you to do it well.

Beneficiaries. The names on your retirement accounts and life insurance. These forms often override your will, and they’re often out of date.

Accounts and access. What exists, who can reach it, and how. Joint accounts, signatures, autopay, and the account that’s only in one name.

Digital life. Your phone, photos, email, and social accounts. We set up a password manager with emergency access, so the right person can get in when it matters. You hold it, and I never see inside it.

Final wishes. Burial, cremation, green burial, a home funeral. A service or no service. The music, the readings, who you’d want in the room.

The house manual. The water shutoff, the alarm code, the neighbor with the spare key, the person who fixes the thing. Everything that lives only in your head.

Letters and legacy. Letters to your kids, your partner, a friend. Some people write an ethical will: a letter about what they’ve learned and what they hope for the people they leave behind. These are often what families treasure most.

The list: free

A two-person checklist covering everything above, with the four items that cause the most harm when missing marked clearly. Good for people who want to start on their own.

Guided: $950

Three sessions over six weeks, for one person or a couple.

• First session. We map what exists, what’s missing, and the order to tackle it.
• Second session. The harder decisions: medical wishes, guardianship, final wishes.
• Third session. We review everything, close the gaps, and settle where it all lives and who knows.

Between sessions you do the work, with short check-ins from me to keep it moving.

Complete: $3,500

Eight to ten weeks, done alongside you. I chase the missing pieces, sit in on the conversations that stall, help with letters, and assemble the finished packet in print and digital form. If you want, we end with a handoff meeting with the person you’ve chosen as your point person, so they know what exists and where.

Both paid options are priced per household, not per person, and both have a finish date. The finish date is most of what you’re paying for.

A complete, organized record of your wishes and your practical life. A named person who knows where it is. And, for most people, a few conversations they’re glad they finally had.

It also tends to change how the present feels. There’s a particular lightness that comes from knowing the people you love won’t be left guessing.

Isn’t this a bit morbid?

Many people expect it to be, and find it’s closer to the opposite. It’s practical, often funny, and it tends to bring couples closer. You’re talking about what you’d want for each other.

Do I still need a lawyer?

For a will or a trust, yes. I don’t draft legal documents or give legal advice. What I do is get the decisions made and the information gathered, so your time with an attorney is shorter and clearer.

My partner isn’t ready.

That’s common. We can start with one piece, with whoever is ready. Often, once the first part is done, the second person comes in on their own.

We’re young and healthy.

That’s the best time. Nothing is urgent, so you can make these decisions calmly, and update them as life changes.

Do you work remotely?

Yes. Planning happens over video, anywhere in the world.

I’m not a lawyer, a financial advisor, or a medical professional. I help you get ready for the people who are, and make sure the conversations happen at all.

What I do and don’t do →