“All my clients are dead.” More than an attention-grabbing gimmick, this was a comment from a professional lunch speaker I heard recently, and no, she wasn’t a rep from Canada’s MAIDS program. She was a Trust Advisor from a Canadian bank, and she couldn’t have pinpointed the problem more succinctly. When fulfilling a contract, she follows instructions from beyond the grave.

 

Her job is to exact these details on the living. It’s awkward.

 

But… Family: We might be more inclined to ask a dear friend or a sibling to serve as an executor or trustee -- it’s all so very personal. Which is probably why we shouldn’t ask it of a dear friend or sibling. It’s all so very personal!

 

Maybe appointing a professional seems like hiring someone to tell your kids they’re adopted after you’re dead. If so, appointing one of your kids is like asking him to tell the other kids he’s the only one who’s not adopted (also, Dad loved him better). You could appoint all the kids jointly, but that might be the Pavlovian bell that starts the feud. Before you know it, your grandson is bald, living in Spuzzum, and not even very good at the banjo.

 

Money: This can be expensive, (costs can be mitigated). But long before an invoice arrives, you’ll be hanging out with that Stranger who paid his taxes out of the mouth of a fish, so… unless you’re King Tut, invoices won’t really be a thing. (Please Note: If you are King Tut, give me a call at 1-800-ROYAL-TY).

 

To be clear, I’m not on commission from the Grim Reaper,

Not even from the bank’s Trust Keeper.

Don’t just focus on what’s cheaper.

This question is a sleeper, and its problems can get steeper.

 

(I can’t stop rhyming, and I mean it.)

(Anybody want a peanut?)

 

Wealthy Barber: Here’s a little blurb from David Chilton on avoiding post mortem family fueds. As he says, he’s “barely scratching the surface” about it.

 

 

 

Mark