I’VE BEEN ENGAGING IN the same end-of-the-year ritual for decades. Right after Christmas, I take a day or two—preferably away from home—to reflect, pray, meditate and write in my journal about the past year and the year that lies ahead.
It’s a time for me to think about what I’ve done, what I haven’t done and what I hope to do in the new year. In this review, I include my financial, spiritual, emotional and physical lives. I reset my portfolio allocation, take an inventory of my assets—financial and otherwise—and decide what I want to focus on over the next year.
At the end of 2022, I chose to go to the beach for a night and sit by the ocean as I did this. I thought about where I was at the beginning of 2022 and what had changed. I thought about three colleagues who were alive in December 2021. One was planning on retiring in June. She fell from a ladder as she came down from her attic, broke her neck and died in February. Another had retired in June 2021. He was a fit runner. He dropped dead of a heart attack this past July. Another gem of a man retired last summer at age 71. He was diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer one month later and died in October.
Life can change in a heartbeat. All the financial and family plans we’ve made, and all the dreams we hope to realize one day, don’t come true because one day never comes. Thus is the reality of life and death—a reality we ignore or deny at our own peril, whether it’s our finances or any other aspect of our life.
This realization is easy to intellectualize but sometimes hard to internalize, as I was reminded the week after New Year’s Day. At the end of 2022, I registered for Medicare because I turn age 65 in March. I had already helped my wife do so in October without any problem—which is why I was a little peeved when I received a letter from the Social Security Administration on Jan. 2 saying it couldn’t process my application until it had an original copy of my birth certificate. I huffed and puffed, and went off to look for it.
I didn’t find it with the birth certificates for the rest of the family, so I checked to see if it was in my adoption file. I was adopted at birth and began searching for my biological roots—with limited success—after my son was born 35 years ago.
Sure enough, my birth certificate was in my adoption file. That led me to check something on the internet. I’ll spare you all the details. But, to my surprise, I found the name and location of my biological sister and found pictures of my biological mother, whom I never met. I knew my mom was dead, but I didn’t know my sister was alive or where she lived. I do now. My heartbeat didn’t stop, but it definitely started pounding a lot harder and maybe missed a beat or two.
My sister and I have since talked on the phone, and I hope one day that we’ll meet. My life was changed forevermore when I saw that picture of my mom and sister—the first such picture I’d ever seen. Almost all of the spiritual work I have done in my life points back to one truth: Stay in the moment and savor each breath. Or follow the words attributed by some to James Dean: “Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today.”
That’s good counsel for all of us, especially those of us who are in the financial thinking and planning business. Because it can all change in a heartbeat.
Don Southworth is a semi-retired minister, consultant and tax preparer living in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. He recently completed his Certified Financial Planner education. Don is passionate about the intersection between spirituality and money, and he encourages people to follow their callings wherever they lead. Follow Don on Twitter @Calltrepreneur and check out his earlier articles.
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Great story. There are probably tens of thousands of stories like ours now with DNA testing. Adopted myself at birth, I’d been reluctant to search because my mom seemed hurt by the idea as well as a little bit of fear of the unknown. About 10 years after she passed and approaching my retirement, my wife prevailed on me to take a couple of DNA tests. Long story short I now have 2 half-sisters who are also both adopted but unrelated because I share one with my bio father and one with my bio mom. And a bunch of new cousins. All of whom I have met, made friends and memories with. Not every story turns out like this but I am very grateful.
Thanks Rob. Glad it has worked out so well. My adopted parents encouraged me to search but I had no interest until my son was born. First person who I shared blood with. Some of my biological siblings have wanted nothing to do with me and others have. Emotional stuff for all involved.
Thanks for sharing your experience. Your article really hit home with me. When I was 21 years old, I placed my newborn daughter up for adoption. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done (and likely ever will do) in my life. I am thankful I was able to do an open adoption. I’ve been able to stay in contact with my birth daughter over the last 34 years and watch her mature into an amazing wife and mother of her own three children.
I hope you’re able to meet your sister in person.
Thanks Kristine. You and your daughter are both very fortunate. I was lucky the attorney that handled my adoption was a big believer in open adoption. He was still practicing at 90 and he gave me full access to my files.
This is a tangent, but your comment reminded me of a story. Two weeks ago, my husband and I met with his folks’ (mom and stepdad) estate attorney. My husband is the designated executor and trustee. They’re in their early 80s.
When we sat down with the attorney, he announced that he was 90. My father-in-law’s first question was, “Uh…I’m sure nothing’s going to happen to you, but…” The attorney was quick to explain that he has a “young” (late 50s) partner, and we got his business card and got to say hi to him after the meeting.
Gotta say, this 90-year-old attorney was sharp as a tack. He was also super chatty. Among other things, we learned that he was widowed but seeing the wife of one of his clients—the man unfortunately is very progressed with Alzheimer’s and in a facility—and the attorney and the man’s wife plan to marry as soon as he passes(!). I was getting worried he was about to give us details of their love life if we didn’t get out of there. As I said, he was chatty.
Good morning Don,
A emotional impactful article for me.
I hope you have a great 2023.
Best, Bill
Thanks Bill. Pretty emotional for me too! Happy 2023.
One reason I took early retirement at 53 (the day I reached thirty years at my megacorp) was hearing too many stories of fellow-workers who weren’t able to enjoy their retirements because of health problems. I managed sixteen years of extensive travel before being grounded by ill health and now Covid, for which I am extremely thankful.
How great to be able to do that. If I had stayed in the corporate world I may have been able to do that too but no complaints.
Great article Don, thank you.
Seems like your top priority for 2023 is to go meet your sister just because of all the examples you related.
Amen!