Wednesday Wisdom - Real Men Don't Wear Knee Pads

REAL MEN DON'T WEAR KNEE PADS           "A man's got to know his limitations." Harry Callahan/Clint Eastwood   I guess it's time to confess to something very un-macho: I sometimes wear knee pads when I work in the garden. My children gave them to me for Christmas and I initially resisted the notion of wearing them. Unmanly and not cool, I thought. But my children also gave me two large bunches of red onion plants, and by the time I had a fourth of them planted, my knees were rebelling against my male vanity. Out came the new knee pads and voila! Sudden comfort! Rebellion over! With my new protection in place, I had the rest of the onions in the ground in no time. Uncool? Perhaps. Un-macho? Without a doubt. Comfortable? Absolutely! One of the nice things about being almost 65 is that I no longer worry what other people think of me. People who love me will keep on loving me even with those goofy-looking things strapped around my legs, and those who don't, don't matter after all. As my hero Dirty Harry said, a man's got to know his limitations. One of mine is that I don't have 5-year-old knees any more, and if I don't take care of the ones I've got, some orthopedic surgeon is going to cut them out and install some artificial ones in their place. No thanks. I think I'll go with the unmanly, goofy-looking knee pads for as long as possible. Thanks, children, for looking out for your old man.

Wednesday Wisdom - Don't Pull Up the Bonus Broccoli!

DON'T PULL UP THE BONUS BROCCOLI!                      Very few people know about "bonus broccoli." The first time I raised broccoli I harvested some large lovely heads, plump and full and rich dark green. Then, being the efficient gardener that I was, I started pulling up all the old plants and planting something else in the space. A more experienced gardener saw what I was doing and rushed over to try to head off my mistake. "If you leave them alone for a few weeks, they'll grow more heads," she told me. "The plants may look a little ragged at this stage but they've still got lots more production left in them." The next season when I harvested broccoli, I took her advice and let the plants grow after the first harvest. Just as she had told me, those older plants started producing more broccoli. The heads weren't quite as large during the second round as the first crop, but they were still excellent broccoli. And they kept going for several more weeks. I ended up picking about three extra months' worth. Now that I understand how broccoli grows, I am able to harvest three or four times more broccoli per planting than I used to, simply by not being so hasty to get rid of the old plants. I call these extra months of production "bonus broccoli." It's a nice return on my garden investment, because all it costs me is a little patience. My experienced gardener friend's instruction was correct: there is still a lot of production left in those mature plants and it's foolish to pull them up too quickly. * * * * * In my work as a retirement planning expert, I help lots of folks in their early 60s. Some come to me after receiving the devastating news that they have just been laid off from their long-term job. Losing your job at that stage of life is a bitter pill to swallow. Your paycheck and your benefits are gone, as well as your sense of identity. But more significantly, it also means you're very unlikely to find a new position similar to your previous one. It's sad but undeniable - even if it's illegal, age discrimination is alive and well in 21st century America. You may get an interview but if you have gray hair, you probably won't get hired. I'd like to tell employers who are thinking of firing long-time faithful employees the same thing that experienced gardener once told me about broccoli: Mister, you're making a big mistake. You're being too hasty. There's still plenty of production left in that seasoned employee. Don't pull up the bonus broccoli! Besides their actual production, mature workers bring a number of intangibles to the table. They may not be as flashy as a new batch of replacement millennials, but the wisdom and common sense they bring to the job will serve you and your company well. They introduce a work ethic to your organization that the youngsters just don't have. They're more stable. They're less likely to wilt under pressure, or drag their "life-traumas" to the workplace. Don't pull up the bonus broccoli! Today's retirees need more flexibility. Some can't wait to retire, while others enjoy their job and want to work - perhaps part-time - into their 70s. And obviously there comes a time when every worker needs to retire gracefully, but usually they're sent away far too early. Don't waste all that talent. Your patience will be well rewarded with a significant return on investment. Don't pull up the bonus broccoli!

Wednesday Wisdom - "Choose It or Lose It" - Part Two

"CHOOSE IT OR LOSE IT" - Part Two "Emotions [can] run high over who gets Grandma's pearl necklace or Dad's fishing pole. Disagreements over who gets what can lead to bawling and brawling between siblings that can scar relationships forever." John Ewolt   (Dividing the assets of a recently-deceased loved one can challenge the good will of even the best of families. This series of articles provides guidance for those facing this tricky task.) In the fall of 1986, my wife's father, Henry Ware Hobbs, Jr. sent each of his six children a large legal file entitled "Choose It or Lose It." The file contained a photograph of every heirloom object he owned and a paragraph about each item. In the cover letter to the file, he invited his children to come to his house "at high noon" (he often had a flair for the dramatic) on the Friday after Thanksgiving, without spouses, prepared to "choose it or lose it." At the meeting, each of the children drew numbers and then proceeded to voice their top choice, one child at a time until all six had selected. Then the order was reversed for round two, with the child who had drawn number six going first this time, followed by number five, etc.   Back and forth they went, round by round, until everything had been earmarked and their choices recorded. It was elegantly simple and eminently fair. Here are the key elements of Henry's wisdom: He took personal responsibility, not leaving this difficult issue for his children to muddle through without his guidance and oversight. He developed a simple and fair process for making the division, and made sure everyone understood it. He did not presume as the parent to know what each child valued; instead his process allowed them to express with their choices what was important to them. He found ways to reduce the emotions and stress in a setting naturally fraught with tender feelings, hidden agendas, and deeply-embedded rivalries, such as by starting early, using humor, and disinviting spouses. When Henry passed away seven years later, everything from the original "Choose It or Lose It" meeting was distributed according to the earlier lists without confusion, rancor, or drama. But as it turned out, Henry had not included his own possessions in the original "Choose It or Lose It" session, only those things he considered family heirlooms. No problem. The family inventoried Henry's personal items, selected a private meeting place, and repeated the same process, again with harmonious results. When my father died about ten years ago, my brothers and sisters and I employed this simple process to allocate his meager personal effects. It was a sweet and satisfying experience for all. We felt our father would have been pleased to see our cooperation and our concern for each other's happiness in distributing these cherished items. Most recently, over the New Year's holiday, my wife and her siblings used their father's "Choose It or Lose It" approach to smoothly divide and distribute the contents of their mother's large Mississippi home, which had been sold after their mother moved to a nursing home. From observing the process three times in my wife's family and once in my own, and from using it with great success in my own legal practice, I can heartily recommend the principles that undergird Henry's methodology: 1) Take personal responsibility; 2) Develop a fair and simple process; 3) Let the heirs express their values with their choices; and 4) Avoid overly-emotional settings. I encourage families to implement these four principles as they face the daunting task of dividing the artwork, heirlooms, and tangible effects of a loved one. Each family's methodology may vary somewhat from Henry's, but as long as the principles are honored, the results should be positive. I am not suggesting that this approach can eliminate every pitfall, but I do believe it is more likely to engender lasting family harmony than the free-for-all most parents and grandparents leave their heirs.

Wednesday Wisdom - "Choose It or Lose It" - Part One

"CHOOSE IT OR LOSE IT" - Part One   

    

 

"Emotions [can] run high over who gets Grandma's pearl necklace or Dad's fishing pole. Disagreements over who gets what can lead to bawling and brawling between siblings that can scar relationships forever."

John Ewolt 

  

  

Some families could care less about their parents' and grandparents' personal property, as I described in last week's Wednesday Wisdom. Other families, however, deeply value their heirlooms and personal artifacts. In such families, the failure to plan properly for their division and distribution can create significant family harmony issues.

When most people plan their estates, they largely focus on how their money and their property will be distributed, but they usually pay scant attention to the "stuff." While those personal effects may have little monetary value, often they carry tons and tons of sentimental value. Unfortunately, dividing up those items is the one part of the estate settlement process that is most likely to create lasting relational problems in a family.

Estate planning clients (and their advisors) often make at least one of these potentially devastating mistakes:

1.)  They leave the issue for others to address after their death.  

2.)  They fail to establish a process that feels fair to their heirs.

3.) They postpone the matter to a time when emotions and tensions are already high, such as in the middle of the grieving process.

Any one of these slip-ups can light a fuse that could blow family relationships to smithereens.

Many times, if the will says anything at all about the personal property, it simply instructs the children to work it out among themselves. My dear friend John A. Warnick, a SunBridge advisor from Denver, Colorado, uses a powerful metaphor to describe the havoc this approach can create, as quoted in a New York Times article:

"I ask parents to think just for a second what it would be like on Christmas morning if your children ran downstairs and there were all of these presents, bright and shining, big and small, but with no name tags on them," he said. "Can you imagine the free-for-all that would ensue?"

Doing nothing and believing that your children will divide things without quarreling, he said, will not work. "It's the denial that my children will never fight, they'll never quarrel, they'll just accept it," he said. "That denial is a temptation for many people to not put the time and energy into carefully designating and selecting personal property." (https://www.nytimes.com/2016/04/16/your-money/when-dividing-assets-the-little-things-matter.html)

Some parents unfortunately use the "stickers-on-the-bottom-of-the-item" method. Even ignoring the danger of the stickers falling off or being moved or removed, this is a dangerous game. Seldom does every object receive a label and never does the outcome turn out to be equitable. It usually ends up favoring the child who is the most pushy or manipulative or close-at-hand, the one who is willing to push the limits with the parent. Those who draw the short straw in this system often end up resenting both their parent and the sibling(s) favored by the parent's stickers.

My father-in-law, Henry Ware Hobbs, Jr., saw firsthand during his long career as an attorney in Brookhaven, Mississippi, how this issue can destroy families, and he was determined that he would not let it happen to his six children. In the fall of 1986, many years before his unexpected passing in 1993, he sent them each a large legal file entitled "Choose It or Lose It."

As I described in last week's Wednesday Wisdom, he preserved the stories of each item by photographing every heirloom object he owned and writing a paragraph about each item, summarizing what he knew of its history: who owned it, how they acquired it, how they used it, how it came into his possession, and any other tidbits of information.

But he did not stop there. He went on to outline a simple process under his direction for making a fair and equitable division of those heirlooms in a calm and dispassionate setting. It was pure genius.

To be continued . . . .

 

Wednesday Wisdom - Is this the End of Family Heirlooms?

IS THIS THE END OF FAMILY HEIRLOOMS?  

                                

"Our most treasured family heirlooms are our sweet family memories. The past is never dead, it is not even past."

William Faulkner

  

 

  

A recent article on the NextAvenue.org website (http://www.nextavenue.org/nobody-wants-parents-stuff/) paints a bleak picture for the present and future value of family heirlooms.

"For the first time in history of the world, two generations are downsizing simultaneously," says Mary Kay Buysse, a senior move manager, talking about the boomers' parents (sometimes, the final downsizing) and the boomers themselves. "I have a 90-year-old parent who wants to give me stuff or, if she passes away, my siblings and I will have to clean up the house. And my siblings and I are 60 to 70 and we're downsizing."

This, it seems, is 21st-century life - and death. "I don't think there is a future" for the possessions of our parents' generation, says antique dealer Carol Eppel. "It's a different world."

According to the article, many of the staples of previous generations' households - sets of china, large pieces of solid wood furniture, centuries' old family portraits, etc. - no longer fit the lifestyles of Millennials and Gen-Xers.

"Young couples starting out don't want the same things people used to have," says Susan Devaney, a senior move manager. "They're not picking out formal china patterns anymore. I have three sons. They don't want anything of mine. I totally get it."

Mary Kay Buysse agrees. "This is an Ikea and Target generation. They live minimally, much more so than the boomers. They don't have the emotional connection to things that earlier generations did," she notes. "And they're more mobile. So they don't want a lot of heavy stuff dragging down a move across country for a new opportunity."

This phenomenon hits close to home. Over the New Year's holiday, my wife and her siblings divided and distributed the contents of their mother's large Mississippi home, which had been sold after their mother moved to a nursing home. It was a challenging, emotional time for all.

I'm happy to report that the process went smoothly and nearly everything found a new home, thanks in large measure to the fact that there are six children and 16 grandchildren who treasure their family heritage. The secret is that this family knows the family stories and has associated those stories with the physical objects that faithfully served earlier generations of the family. Mindful of that history, newer generations now cherish those heirlooms and share those narratives with their children.

It didn't happen by chance. Back in the early 1990's my wife's father, Henry Ware Hobbs, Jr., took steps to cement his children's affection for their heirlooms. He photographed every heirloom object he owned and wrote a paragraph about each item, summarizing what he knew of its history: who owned it, how they acquired it, how they used it, how it came into his possession, and any other tidbits of information. He distributed a copy of this amazing handmade catalogue to each of his children as part of the process of dividing up his possessions well in advance of his death. In other words, he related and preserved the story of each painting, chair, table, and armoire, and its role in the family's history.

Upon his untimely passing a few years later, those heirlooms were distributed to his children. As those objects found new homes, they were considered by their new owners as far more than just dishes, artwork, or pieces of furniture. They were tangible symbols of who the family was and is, and visible links between today's generations and their ancestors. They tied Henry's children to their roots and helped them answer the universal question, "Who am I?"

Story is the key. The NextAvenue.org article reinforces this point.

"Every single person, if their parents are still alive, needs to go back and collect the stories of their stuff," says financial adviser Holly Kylen.

One of Kylen's clients inherited a set of beautiful gold-trimmed teacups, saucers and plates. Her mother had told her she'd received them as a gift from the DuPonts because she had nursed for the legendary wealthy family. Turns out, the plates were custom-made for the DuPonts. The client decided to keep them due to the fantastic story.

Henry Hobbs' genius lay in understanding that children and grandchildren don't value family heirlooms unless they know both the history of the object and the history of the previous owners. Recognizing this, he then took tangible steps to convey that history to his posterity. His homemade catalogue and its collection of pictures and stories is a treasure in its own right, but it is much, much more. Like the Rosetta Stone of ancient Egypt, it was the key to unlocking the wonders of the past for current and future generations of the Hobbs family.

Physical objects with no story attached are just stuff. But they become real treasures when connected to their narrative. Stories bring those objects to life and help us understand their role in the fabric of the family. Loved ones' legacies are perpetuated when personal possessions and family stories are woven together, shared, and passed forward, generation after generation.

So, what can you do to capture, preserve, and pass on your family's artifacts and their stories?

Wednesday Wisdom - The Difference Between Cherry Tomatoes and Snow Peas

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN CHERRY TOMATOES AND SNOW PEAS

"I have been finding treasures in places I did not want to search. I have been finding beauty where I did not want to look. And I have learned so much from journeys I did not want to take."  

Suzy Kassem    

  

 

Here it is the middle of February and I'm still harvesting from my fall garden and thinking about the upcoming spring planting season. Two of my most prolific crops this time around, cherry tomatoes and snow peas, present different harvesting challenges.

Picking cherry tomatoes is easy: when they turn red, you pluck them right off the vine. They're not at all hard to find. The only difficulty is resisting the urge to pop them into your mouth right there in the garden. If you succeed, you come home with a sweet little pile of treasure.

Picking the wily snow pea, on the other hand, is a different challenge. They are masters of disguise. They secrete themselves among the leaves in perfect camouflage. When you think you've picked them all, you can come back a minute later and pick just as many. Then you return a third, a fourth, even a fifth time and find still more. How do they hide so well?

Some of life's lessons and opportunities are like cherry tomatoes and some are like snow peas. Some are easy to spot when they're ripe for the picking; they're sweet and tasty. Others, however, are less obvious. You have to search for them, and sometimes they're hiding in plain sight. They conceal themselves among all the "stuff" of life. You think you've uncovered them all and then you come back and discover more.

I love both, but I must say that it's more gratifying to successfully harvest snow peas than cherry tomatoes. That which is too easily earned or learned is not as greatly appreciated.

Now I'm wondering - was that a snow-pea or cherry-tomato lesson I just shared?