The finish line

It’s a privilege being old. Too many people never make it that far.

But it ends. For everyone. The finish line comes.

When you croak, the worries and stress end. Not for those left behind, however. Besides leaving your grieving spouse enough money to buy a cabriolet and find a hot new boyfriend, what can you do to ease the transition?

Lots, of course. Have a fresh will. Hopefully a decent lawyer, accountant and financial guy, too. Terminal tax returns are a pain. So is dealing with Service Canada and the province about pensions and benefits. Mostly, though, it’s the little stuff of daily life that really needs attention.

A reminder of this came last week when a BC couple whose money we look after asked about “Garth’s little doomer booklet”. And, yes, I did write a post about this three years ago. As a matter of fact, that doc was updated last weekend – something which happens in our household about once a month.

It’s totally, completely, utterly, devotedly and exclusively for Dorothy. And it was created after I’d sat across the table from too many spouses overwhelmed when their squeeze died. The dudes may have loved them endlessly, but when it came to planning, they sucked. The little stuff. It matters.

And thus was born the Manual of Us.

Besides the usual estate planning matters everybody must attend to (for example, ensuring you name your sweetie as ‘successor holder’ of your TFSA, not ‘beneficiary’…) you should lay out the details of everyday life. In my marriage (like most) one person is tasked with the unpleasantness of dealing with the insurance guy, the car dealership repair faeries or paying the electricity bill. We’re also into a world now of online invoicing, utility websites and so, so many passwords.

So this was my solution, as I described it here.

The project involved sifting through our lives and writing a set of instructions. Like, who insures the car, when does the policy expire and what does it cost? What and where are joint and singular investment accounts? When do property taxes get paid? What recuring bills are charged to which credit cards or direct debit?

When was the furnace last serviced? The filter changed? Where are the tax returns for prior years in case of reassessment? Who are the folks to call if something happens to the house? The car? The dog? You?

What’s the cellphone plan? What are the log-ins for utility accounts? MyCRA account? Passwords for social media, email, Google, bank accounts, investment accounts? Cellphone lock codes? What would the best contact numbers be in an emergency?

How to reach spousal business colleagues, the HR or payroll departments? How are the electricity, cable, water, sewer and gas bills paid? What will be the income for the one who remains?

Life’s complicated. The list is long. It took a few months before the digital file was done and a thin binder with a Glory Days cover emerged. “Here it is,” I said, handing it to Dorothy. “It’s called The Manual of Us.”

Of course she said the whole thing was premature, morbid and typically Garth-weird. But that’s not what she really thought. Now when I produce those update pages and hand them over she ensures they find the right place. When we travel, I see her packing it.

Human nature makes us want immortality when we clearly know better. Some people think they can stretch out lives by denying the finish line even exists, refusing to prepare. But in the end, that’s merely selfish.

I’ve seen the personal chaos too many times to let it happen to her. Or the pooch.

We live on in the hearts and thoughts of others. Make it easy.

About the picture: It snowed again last week, putting Cody into his element. The morning walk deteriorated into a series of snow angels, ice-licking and joyous rolling. Then a pickup stopped and Dave the photogtrapher jumped out (he shoots for the local weekly). He crouched, the dog posed, and this was the result. He posted it on the town’s FB page, calling him “our most recognizable citizen.” Lots of likes. Cody asked for a blowup for his bedroom wall. On order.

To be in  touch or send a picture of your beast, email to ‘garth@garth.ca’.

Source: https://www.greaterfool.ca/2026/02/25/the-finish-line/