Estate planning isn’t really about death. It’s about the people who have to keep going after you’re gone.

Estate planning is something I talk about regularly with clients—not because I expect them to need their plans tomorrow, but because thoughtful planning can make an enormous difference when life takes an unexpected turn. And when I think about why this work matters, I keep coming back to a much more personal example: my sister, Anne, and her husband, Jim.

In early 2023, I began working with Anne and Jim on their financial plan as they prepared for Jim’s retirement from police service, which they were anticipating in December 2024. One of the first things we talked about was estate planning. At the time, the primary motivation was privacy and protection for their family, particularly given their public roles. But the process also prompted something just as important: conversations about what they each wanted and how they wanted things handled if something happened to either of them. Jim had two daughters that Anne enjoyed being a stepmom to, so their planning included parties other than just themselves. And Anne also had an old will from before she and Jim were married—something she knew needed to be updated.

As she reflected on that process recently, she told me that one of the most valuable things about it was that it gave them an opportunity to have some in-depth conversations about what they wanted. Those weren't necessarily conversations Jim enjoyed having, but Anne felt they were important.

The process itself also gave them a structure for having those conversations. They met with the attorney, completed detailed questionnaires about their family, assets, wishes, and goals, and then reviewed and refined everything together before the documents were finalized and executed. What might have otherwise been a series of difficult conversations became part of a thoughtful process they could work through together.

They were very much in tune with one another, she said, and there weren't many surprises. That mattered more than either of them could have known at the time. They had no reason to think they would need those documents so soon, but they were relieved to have their plan in place.

Fast forward to September of 2024 and Jim was 53, three months away from retirement. He felt good. He had seen his cardiologist and received a clean bill of health related to a minor procedure earlier that year. He could see ahead the beginning of a much anticipated new chapter. But a little over a year after we began working together on their planning, on an ordinary Tuesday morning at home, Jim died of a sudden cardiac event.

Anne was unexpectedly faced with the administrative, financial, and personal decisions that come with losing a spouse—while simultaneously trying to process the shock of his sudden passing.

Though there was one thing she didn't have to do in those early days and weeks: She didn't have to guess what Jim would have wanted.

That may sound simple. It isn't. When someone dies, there are an enormous number of decisions to make. Some are big. Some are incredibly small and personal. And many of them have to be made while you're grieving.

Anne told me that she wasn't sure she fully appreciated how much the estate planning helped in those first days and weeks. She was so shell-shocked and focused on holding herself together that even basic things felt overwhelming.

But the planning simplified the probate process and meant she could take care of much of what needed to be done without additional visits, paperwork, legal counsel, or the need to track down estimated values for everything.

It didn't make the process easy. It just made an already difficult process less complicated. The conversations mattered just as much as the documents.

For me, this is one of the most important parts of Anne's story. Estate planning isn't only about signing documents. The documents matter enormously. But so do the conversations that happen before the documents are signed. Anne and Jim had talked about what they wanted.

• They had talked about taking care of the kids.
• They had even talked about something as personal as what Jim wanted done with his remains.

Those conversations meant that, after he died, Anne wasn't left wondering what he would have wanted. She knew.

As Anne put it: “I can't say enough how much of a difference it made to have the unshakable confidence that I knew what he would have wanted because he had told me.”

That's the gift of planning. Not certainty about what the future will bring. We don't get that. But clarity about what to do when the future doesn't unfold the way we expected.

It also mattered for Jim's daughters. Jim's death didn't affect only Anne. He left behind two daughters, who were 21 and 17 at the time of his death. Anne was fortunate to have a good relationship with them, and having Jim's wishes documented helped provide clarity as they navigated the loss and the practical matters that followed.

There were also complexities that none of them could have anticipated. Because the younger daughter was still a minor and lived in South Carolina, additional legal processes were required there. Anne's experience reinforced for her just how complicated estate administration can become when multiple states and family circumstances are involved.

And she also came away with a lesson about the things she might do differently. If she were starting over, she would probably be more specific about how certain personal items should be handled. Anne also says she would do it even sooner. She's even considering leaving additional written instructions for her own trustees that can be updated over time.

That's another important piece of this story: Estate planning isn't a one-and-done exercise.

Your plan should evolve as your life, family, assets, and wishes evolve. “But I'm young. I'm healthy. I have time.” This is where Anne's story becomes particularly difficult—and particularly important. Jim was 53. He felt good. His parents had both lived into their 70s. There was no reason for him to believe that he needed to prepare for his own death immediately.

But that's the thing about estate planning: you don't do it because you expect to die. You do it because you don't know when you will.

Anne's perspective now is straightforward: “Thinking about the possibility of dying isn't something that will make it more or less likely, but it makes it easier on the people you love if the unthinkable does happen.”

I share Jim's story not to frighten anyone, but to remind us that life doesn't always unfold according to our expectations. Sometimes, despite our best assumptions about the future, circumstances change in ways we could never have anticipated. In addition to Jim passing at 53, I had a mid-40s wife and mother of three client who less than a year after securing additional life insurance coverage and addressing their estate planning received a terminal cancer diagnosis, and seperately a mid-40s husband who was lost to a deadly accident. Thoughtful conversations and planning allowed those families to move forward in the wake of the losses.

Estate planning is one piece of a bigger financial plan. As a financial planner, I don't prepare wills, trusts, or other estate-planning documents. That's specialized legal work, and I refer clients to qualified estate-planning attorneys and resources when that work is needed. 

But estate planning is an important part of the financial planning conversations I have with clients. Why? Because the financial plan doesn't exist in a vacuum. Beneficiary designations need to be coordinated with the overall plan. Account ownership matters. Trusts can matter. Insurance can matter. Retirement accounts can matter. And the legal documents need to work together with all of those pieces. My job isn't to be the attorney. My job is to recognize when these pieces need to be addressed, help clients understand how they fit into the bigger picture, and coordinate with the appropriate professionals so that the plan works as intended.

That's what we were doing with Anne and Jim in 2023. We were preparing for retirement. We were looking forward to their financial future. And as part of that process, we made sure estate planning wasn't left on the someday list. We had no idea how soon that planning would matter.

The point isn't to prepare for death. It's to prepare for life.

Even with time, the practical work of settling an estate and taking care of the things Jim left behind didn't simply end. Anne told me that she continues to deal with the minutiae of managing his money, taking care of his family, and navigating the future they had once planned together.

And, of course, she still misses him.

But she also said something that I think captures the real value of the planning they did: “I still feel confident that I'm doing the things he would have wanted me to do.”

That's what thoughtful estate planning can provide. It can't prevent tragedy. It can't make grief easier. It can't eliminate every complication. Even a well-prepared estate can encounter unexpected hurdles. But it can mean that, when the unthinkable happens, the people you love aren't also left trying to figure out what you would have wanted.

You can have those conversations while you're here. You can put your wishes in writing. You can make sure your beneficiaries and account ownership are coordinated with your plan. And then you can go back to living your life. Because that's really the point.

Do the hard thinking now, while you have the luxury of doing it, so that the people you love have fewer hard decisions to make later.

This is a hypothetical situation based on real life examples. Names and circumstances have been changed. The opinions voiced in this material are for general information only and are not intended to provide specific advice or recommendations for any individual.