Dakota Beacon

On Memorial Day we honor men and women who served their country in the military and who have passed on to their final reward. Over the years Memorial Day expanded to include anyone we wish to memorialize -- especially parents.

That parents influence their kids is an understatement. Sometimes they impart lessons intentionally, sometimes inadvertently. What they do is as instructive as what they say. By setting the example my parents unconsciously taught me without realizing it. That’s how I came to understand one of life’s important skills.

“Plan ahead,” is what my folks used to say. “If you have a plan, you’ll know where you’re going and how to get there.” That was my father’s axiom.

For the most part, my folks were great planners. They had a plan for everything. If we took a trip, they had a plan. At holiday time, they had a plan. It seems for any occasion, they had a plan.

Like most kids, I emulated my folks as I grew through adolescence into adulthood. Have a plan, then follow it. You can always adjust, but you must start with a plan.

Growing older, I saw in my parents the epitome of organization. They had a plan to finance their retirement and they had a plan to administer their estate after they left this world. Was their planning a noble effort, or compulsion? I believe it was the former.

In spite of their punctiliousness, they came up short. This was not a defect in their plan per se. I was taken back by what they failed to consider. Meticulous in their financial provision for retirement and specific in their wishes after passing on, nevertheless they expressed no vision of what would happen between the start of retirement and the end of life. It’s as if those years of life would be frozen in time. This resulted in a huge circumstantial gap in their overall plan.

The more I observe people, the more I am convinced this circumstantial gap is common among the over-sixty crowd.

Why so? I suspect denial born of fear in dealing with the reality of a slow decline in life plays a major role. It’s not easy to acknowledge mental and physical decline when life comes at you fast. My folks lived their lives, but life waned imperceptibly each day. Don’t we all have an aversion to thinking about the unthinkable? The “it-won’t-happen-to-me” attitude takes hold and ignoring the issue helps not at all.

I watched my parents skirmish with their age bereft of a “plan.” They slowly became less capable of making wise decisions and managing routine tasks.

I learned my lesson from their unspoken example. Conclusion? Finish the plan and deal with the inevitable now while there is time. For this I am grateful and am resolved to avoid falling into the same deceptive snare.

There’s more to the “golden years” than having long term care insurance. There are real issues that each person must contend with. Where will you reside in the waning years? Near children? Have you discussed it with them? Is it fair for you to satellite on them unannounced? Or, is it more appropriate to reside in an assisted living facility?

Who will handle your financial matters when you can no longer deal with numbers, balance a checkbook, or make sense of a financial statement? Who do you trust to make these decisions for you?

Who will tend to your medical appointments and medications when your memory fades? Is that person reliable?

Who will shop for groceries when you can no longer drive, or who will prepare your meals when your spouse is gone?

Is it fair to presume your kids will do the job if you haven’t explicitly discussed these matters with them? Is it wise to trust your kids to intuitively do the right things without talking to them?

Or, maybe you would rather not think about this, just let things happen, and take your chances?

A final thought. In the end, literally, an abiding faith transcends everything. Such faith serves best if nurtured in life, not left to the end. Think about that.

Learning how to follow through in life comes as much by observing others and what they do -- or don’t do -- as by what they say. In this sense, my folks were great teachers.

Dennis M. Patrick can be contacted at (JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).