Trust

Dudley and Betty had been married for three years when they realized they should probably have wills.

This was not prompted by illness, a financial crisis or a sudden awareness of mortality. They had simply reached the point in marriage where enough of their lives had become connected that dying without instructions seemed irresponsible.

They had children. Retirement accounts. A house. Insurance. Thirty years of accumulated possessions, some of which might actually be worth something.

Mostly they wanted to make sure the right things went to the right people.

One night they sat at the kitchen table and talked about it.

“If something happens to both of us, what do we want the kids to get?” Betty asked.

“Everything.”

“Eventually.”

Dudley looked at her.

“Eventually?”

Betty gave him the look.

It was a fair point. Their children were wonderful. Dudley loved them deeply.

He was not entirely convinced either of them needed immediate access to a large amount of money and the freedom to make decisions without adult supervision.

“How old before we trust them?” he asked.

“With money?”

“Yes.”

Betty thought about it.

“Forty-seven.”

“That seems reasonable.”

They talked through the house, retirement accounts, life insurance and the various things people accumulate that suddenly require instructions once the owners are dead.

Dudley briefly considered researching wills online.

Betty stopped that almost immediately.

“We're getting an attorney.”

“I was just looking.”

“No.”

“I can research.”

“You are not making our will on the Internet.”

There were things he was willing to do himself. He could build spreadsheets, replace plumbing fixtures and spend several hours diagnosing a pool pump.

He was not going to DIY the document that decided what happened to their family after they died.

Mostly because Betty had now made that very clear.

So they met with an estate attorney.

Dudley expected wills.

The attorney recommended a trust.

Dudley had heard of trusts. Rich people had trusts. Families on television had trusts. People with buildings named after their grandfathers had trusts.

Dudley and Betty had a farmhouse in Iowa.

“Why do we need a trust?” Dudley asked.

The attorney explained.

A trust could make things easier if one of them died. It could help manage assets if they were incapacitated. It could simplify what happened after both of them were gone. It could also spell out when and how the children received money instead of handing them everything at once.

Dudley looked at Betty.

“So basically a trust is what you create when you don't trust your kids with a lot of money.”

The attorney paused.

“That is not how I would describe it.”

Betty nodded.

“But he's not completely wrong.”

The attorney continued.

The trust would own certain assets. Dudley and Betty would still control everything while they were alive. When one of them died, the other would continue managing it. When both were gone, the successor trustee would follow the instructions they had written.

Dudley liked that part.

Instructions.

“What kind of instructions?”

The attorney gave examples. Money could be distributed at certain ages. It could be held for education, housing or other needs. They could decide whether the children received everything immediately or over time.

Dudley leaned forward.

“So we can add rules.”

Betty turned toward him.

“Do not get excited.”

“I’m not excited.”

Dudley was excited.

“How many rules?”

The attorney smiled.

“There really isn't a target number.”

Betty looked at Dudley.

“That means not twelve.”

“I wasn't thinking twelve.”

He had been thinking categories.

The real conversation was simpler than Dudley expected.

They wanted the surviving spouse protected. They wanted the children treated fairly. They wanted whoever eventually handled things to know exactly what they intended.

And they didn't want their kids dealing with unnecessary legal and financial confusion while also dealing with losing their parents.

That was really the point.

The attorney prepared the trust, wills, powers of attorney and the other documents Dudley had previously filed under Things Responsible Adults Apparently Have.

Then came the part Dudley had not expected.

“You'll need to fund the trust,” the attorney said.

Dudley looked at Betty.

She looked back.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

The attorney explained that creating the trust was only the first step. Certain assets needed to be titled correctly. Beneficiaries needed to be reviewed. Accounts needed to match the estate plan.

Dudley sat forward.

There were accounts.

There were beneficiaries.

There was a checklist.

Betty saw it happen.

“No.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You don't have to.”

The attorney handed them a folder.

Dudley opened it.

Inside were instructions.

This was going to be fine.

Over the next few weeks they worked through the list. They reviewed accounts, changed a few titles and made sure the beneficiary designations matched what they had decided.

Dudley created a tracking sheet.

Betty discovered this when she found it on the kitchen table.

“What is this?”

“Nothing.”

“It has columns.”

“It’s just to make sure we don't miss anything.”

“There are colors.”

“Status indicators.”

“There is a column called ‘Owner.’”

Dudley looked at the sheet.

“In fairness, most of them say me.”

Betty handed it back.

“Of course they do.”

Eventually, everything got done.

Nothing about their daily life changed. They still owned the same house. They still had the same retirement accounts. The kids were still the kids.

But there was now a set of instructions sitting in a folder explaining what happened when they were no longer around to give them.

Dudley liked that more than he expected.

Not because it was sophisticated.

Because it was settled.

They had spent most of their lives making decisions as things happened. The trust was different. It was a decision made ahead of time, while everyone was healthy and nobody was grieving.

Betty put the folder away.

“So we're done?”

“With the trust?”

“Yes.”

Dudley considered explaining that estate plans should occasionally be reviewed as assets, laws and family circumstances changed.

Betty watched him consider it.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good.”

She walked away.

Dudley waited until she was out of the room.

Then he opened his tracking sheet and added:

Review trust every five years.

Status: Scheduled.

Just in case.