Who Handles the Bureaucracy of My Old Age and Death?

I have chosen not to have kids.  It is a choice I was ambivalent about during my prime baby-making years, and now as my body is on the brink of aging out of that possibility, I have yet to feel the imperative of my biological clock.  My life has always felt complete without kiddos, and I do not anticipate that I will regret my choice not to have them.

And yet, it is not lost on me that there is no one in my life who is genetically obligated to care about me as I age.

I say genetically obligated very intentionally, in part to amuse myself with a little dark humor, in part to highlight the assumption of caregiving that is placed on many children, and in part to recognize that even if you do have younger relatives, complex family dynamics and life circumstances may inhibit their willingness or ability to provide care.

In addition to not having kids, I also have a teeny, tiny blood-family that is far flung across at least three different states, so my three cousins who might be willing to provide care as I age are poor candidates simply due to geography, if nothing else.

Currently, I have asked three people in my extensive chosen-family to fill the role of making medical and financial decisions on my behalf, and to do the administrative work of wrapping up my life after I die.  It’s a bit of poor planning on my part, because I’m the youngest of the four of us, not to mention that we live in different states right now. But it’s what I have had to work with.

Also, none of them signed on for the day-to-day caregiving I may need—they just agreed to manage the bureaucracy of my aging and death.

Aside from no kids, I’m also single-ish, meaning that it’s possible, but unlikely, that I’ll remarry, cohabitate, or commingle finances with a partner. It turns out, I really, really love sleeping like a starfish in my king-size bed. As with my choice not to have kids, I do not anticipate that I will regret my single-ish choices. 

My life is not just rich with love and connection; it’s ultra-high net worth!  I simply go about love and connection differently than folks who choose more traditional-looking families. To each their own, in the pursuit of our supposed right to life, liberty, and happiness!

That said, it does make planning for my senescence a little tricky, and I join the other 50-60 million child-free folks and the 60% of the Childfree community who are solo/solo-ish agers in the practical planning conundrum of “who do I burden with my day-to-day care, my life-or-death decision making, and my post-life bureaucracy?”

The over 60% of us who are, or will be, childfree and solo as we enter the last stage of life arrive there for myriads of reasons.  Some of us, like me, have chosen that life. Others have been widowed, or experienced ‘gray-divorce’—a late-in-life divorce. Others wanted kids but couldn’t have them.  Others had kids, but survived them. Others are estranged from their children.

In all cases, it can leave a childfree and solo ager feeling uncertain and insecure about what this final chapter will look like.

During my own blind fumble towards a better solution, I was introduced to the work of Jay Zigmont, founder of Childfree Wealth and Childfree Trust. I first heard him speak at a financial conference about the unique planning needs of childfree individuals, and immediately my ears were perked.

Childfree Wealth is the first planning firm exclusively for people without kids, whose mission is to empower the childfree community to plan an amazing life.

Childfree Trust was created specifically to address the estate, advocacy, and care-planning needs of childfree and permanently childless individuals.

What I find particularly compelling about Childfree Trust is that it attempts to solve one of the biggest gaps facing childfree agers—who will be our medical proxy and make healthcare decisions that align with our intentions and desires? 

Banks and trust companies will happily manage financial decisions, trust administration, and estate settlement, usually for a substantial fee. What they generally do not do is serve as a healthcare proxy or advocate. Yet for many childfree agers, finding someone willing and able to make medical decisions during a crisis is one of the hardest pieces of the planning puzzle.

I like that I have options with Childfree Trust (CFT) – I can keep my three friends as my primary appointees and name CFT as a supporting role, so my friends can delegate anything they don’t have the time, energy, or know-how to manage themselves. 

Or, I can name CFT as my primary appointee, and ask my friends to be backup to help with “on the ground” logistics. 

Or, I can simply fully delegate my care logistics to Childfree Trust and leave my friends out of it altogether so that they, and we, can just focus on being cute little old people together, reminiscing over our stories and complaining about how the weather makes our joints hurt.

For me, the existence of this option has been surprisingly reassuring. It expands the range of choices available to me and reduces the likelihood that my chosen family will have to shoulder responsibilities they may not have the capacity or desire to take on.

I don't know exactly what my final chapter will look like. None of us do. But I sleep better knowing that I have more options than I thought I did a year ago. For someone who spends her days helping others move through uncertainty and navigate unconventional planning needs, that peace of mind feels worth sharing.

 

One final note of disclosure.

I am a client of Childfree Wealth, an investor in Childfree Trust, and am currently exploring Childfree Trust's services for my own planning. As such, this article should be read with the understanding that I have both a personal and financial interest in the organizations discussed above.

That said, my purpose here is not necessarily to encourage anyone to become a client or investor. Rather, it is to highlight a challenge that many childfree and solo agers face and to share one emerging solution that I believe is worthy of consideration.

I chose to invest in Childfree Trust because, as both a financial planner and a childfree person, I recognize the significant planning and caregiving gaps many adults face as they age without children or nearby family support. After learning more about the mission, the market need, and the team behind it, I decided it was a cause I wanted to support because it aligns with my values and serves a growing, often overlooked, misunderstood, and criticized population.

Whether Childfree Trust is appropriate for you will depend on your circumstances, goals, preferences, and resources. If you are considering becoming a client or an investor, I encourage you to do your own due diligence and consult with your financial, legal, tax, and healthcare professionals as appropriate before making any decisions. Nothing in this essay should be construed as investment, legal, tax, healthcare, or financial planning advice.