There were 23 obituaries in this morning's paper. Two of the people listed were over 90, the oldest 93. There were four younger than me. I'm 45. Most days it is similar, with only a few people, if any, passing away in their nineties.
I admit I resist strongly making aggressive assumptions when advising retirees. "Retirement," in the classic sense, is the period in which one forever omits labor as a source of income. At some point, returning to the workforce is not an option and many clients have a keen sense of this. "I don't have a job I can fall back on," they'll say, and they are right.
I don't have a problem particularly with assuming a long lifespan. Saturday's paper featured a local woman who is turning 111 next week. Fact is a long lifespan is the explicit goal of most every client. They want to live a long healthy life. It is a bit unnatural to plan to "fail" on that goal but failure does happen.
Neither of the gentleman who left us this month had any need for an inflation-adjusted income stream that lasts a minimum of 30 years. The first funeral I went to was for a man who never got to retire. The money was there, but it was hard to leave the workforce after a successful 40-plus-year career. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
The second funeral I attended was for man who retired and enjoyed a few active years early on but whose health deteriorated. He was 78. Both men have loving family, many friends, and the respect of their peers. Both would have said their lives were happy and successful even if statistically shorter than average.
I don't have an answer to the question of what we should assume for longevity. Sometimes I joke with people and ask them for their date of death. It sure would be easier doing the math if we had that data point ahead of time. Part of me wants to know my own date, but a big part of me is content not knowing.
One thing I know I've gotten from my recent funeral experience is that I am more committed than ever to having meaningful conversations with my clients about what their cash flow and bequest desires can mean to the quality of their life. The answers are not found in software or a magic product that will take care of everything. The answers, to the extent they exist, lie in the conversation.
My father often says, "nobody gives you tomorrow." He is absolutely right, as I have been reminded of yet again this month. So I will continue to preach about the wisdom of planning for the long term, but I will also actively seek ways to help my clients' assets support their need and desire to live as fully as possible the rest of their lives, however long that may be.
Before we part and go hug our loved ones a little tighter, a little longer (trust me, they won't mind), I want to make one last point. People tend to show concern for widows and so they ask questions like, "How are you doing?" "Can I help you with anything?" "Are you going to be OK, you know, financially?" It has been very gratifying to hear my clients assure their friends and family that they are well cared for and not worried about money issues. They can focus on coping with the changes that come with the end of the most significant relationship in their lives. Never underestimate what good planning can provide and the value of "being there" for other human beings. That value may be hard to quantify but it is real and it is profound.
Dan Moisand, CFP, has been featured as one of the America's top independent financial advisors by most leading financial advisor publications. He has spoken to advisor groups on five continents on topics such as managing investments and navigating tax complexities for retirees, retirement readiness, and most topics relating to the development of the financial planning profession. He practices in Melbourne, FL. You can reach him at [email protected]