the priceless conversation

This summer Cort and I did the responsible adult thing and we did some estate planning.

It was long past due that we get some sort of will in place and choose guardians for our children.

We don’t have many material things, but our children’s well-being in case of the worst happening was weighing heavily on us and it pushed us to take this step.

We chose a lawyer who specializes in Estate Planning and offered the best package for the money.  It was completely personalized to our needs.  I’ll spare you all the boring details, but if you are in the Grand Rapids area and have not done your estate planning, hit me up and I’ll give you the details if you’re interested.  We had an amazing experience.  And that is saying a lot since we were mostly talking about depressing things like being dead or incapacitated.

Anyway, at the very end of the entire process, we did something called a Priceless Conversation.  Our lawyer asked Cort and me a series of questions which we answered while a small audio recorder ran.

It started out sort of interview-ish.  We were asked to describe what our children were like right in this moment.  To talk about their personalities and their likes and dislikes.

Cort and I took turns adding things about each child.

But the conversation quickly turned into an actual conversation between me, Cort, and our children.  We were asked to talk about family, our faith, why we chose the people we did as their guardians.

By the end, we were talking about what we hoped for them in this life in the case we were not there.

Cort very confidently went first, “Always remember you are more than you think you are.”

I had never heard him say that before, but it was true.  This is something we strive so hard to instill in our boys: you are a valuable, important piece of the puzzle called life.

There were tears thinking about the boys listening to this after we are gone, but there was also some sort of reassurance that they would have our voices to hold on to.  Our words.

Our lawyer–who reads this blog–pointed out that by writing down my thoughts, my experiences as a mother, the experiences we have as a family, I am creating the rest of the chapters of the priceless conversation.

I am filling in the cracks right here on this blog.

Whether I am here until my kids are grandparents, or if I never get to meet my own grandkids, my words describing my life…OUR life…will always be here.

This is why I blog.

I would give just about anything to have diaries or letters or notes written by my grandmother who passed almost 12 years ago.  I would love to have things my own mother and father wrote.

I don’t know many of the stories of those who came before me, but I can give my stories to future generations.

Maybe they won’t care about my displeasure with the stress of always trying to do it all.  Maybe they won’t be able to relate to my depression and anxiety.  Perhaps they will find my swoony letters to my sons glib and lame.

But they will still be there.  They will be there for someone to find someday.

Maybe Eddie will marry and have kids. Maybe his wife will suffer from depression.  Maybe my words will help her get help or feel a sense of not being alone.

Maybe I will have a daughter someday who feels the pressures of trying to be everything to everyone and she will see I struggled with the same thing.

I don’t know if my words will leave a lasting impact or if they will get buried under new technology and down in the deep dark hole of the internet.

What I know is that I feel called to write these words.

To leave them for someone…hopefully my children.