Good morning. Last week of August already — somewhere a teacher is sharpening pencils and pretending to be ready.

In this issue:

  • The estate planning mistake that costs families thousands

  • Worth Knowing: the medical form you need, RMDs, and your phone's hidden feature

  • From the Archives: selling your parents' house

  • Slice of Life: a thought about kitchen tables

THE BIG STORY

Here's a number that stopped me cold: 67% of Americans don't have a will. That's according to Gallup's 2024 survey. Two out of three people have no legal document saying who gets what when they're gone.

Here's what that costs. When you die without a will — lawyers call it dying "intestate" — the state decides who inherits your assets. Not your family. The state. And the probate process that follows runs $10,000 to $50,000+ in legal fees, court costs, and delays that can stretch over a year. Money that should go to your family goes to the system instead.

If you're over 60, you need four documents in place: (1) a will, (2) a durable power of attorney (that's someone who can handle your finances if you can't), (3) a healthcare directive or living will, and (4) a HIPAA authorization so your family can actually access your medical records.

A basic will costs $300–$600 with an estate attorney, or $150–$300 through services like LegalZoom. That's it. Less than a weekend trip.

But here's the mistake I see families make over and over: naming only one beneficiary on retirement accounts and life insurance. If that person passes before you do, the money goes straight to probate — bypassing everything you set up. The fix: name a primary AND a contingent beneficiary on every account. And update them after any major life event — a divorce, a death, new grandchildren.

Don't put this off another week. Call an estate attorney or visit your state bar's lawyer referral service. It's the most important phone call you'll make this year.

WORTH KNOWING

📋 The medical form you need BEFORE you need it. If you end up in the ER and can't speak for yourself, who makes decisions? If you haven't filed a Medical Power of Attorney, it might not be who you think. Benjamin Wells wrote the definitive guide to this — covering the exact forms you need, state-by-state requirements, and the one mistake (using a generic internet template) that got a family stuck in court for eleven days.

💰 RMDs are due by December 31. If you turned 73 in 2025, your first Required Minimum Distribution (that's the amount the IRS forces you to withdraw from traditional IRAs and 401(k)s) is due by April 1, 2026. But everyone else's is due December 31. Miss it and the penalty is 25% of the amount you should've withdrawn. The takeaway: Check with your financial advisor now, not in December.

📱 Your phone has an emergency medical ID. Both iPhone (Health app → Medical ID) and Android (Settings → Safety & Emergency) let you store your blood type, medications, allergies, and emergency contacts — accessible by paramedics from your lock screen, even when the phone is locked. It takes five minutes to set up and could save your life. Do it today.

FROM THE ARCHIVES

Selling Your Parents' House and Helping Them Downsize — by Benjamin Wells

This is the practical side of estate planning nobody talks about — what happens to the house.

Benjamin walks through the entire process, from that first difficult conversation with your parents to choosing a real estate agent who understands senior moves. One thing that stuck with me: he explains place attachment — the research showing that our emotional bond to a home gets stronger as we age. That's why "it's just a house" is the worst thing you can say.

If you're dealing with this right now, or if it's on the horizon, I've sent this to two people in my own family. It covers the emotional side and the financial side, and it doesn't rush you through either one.

SLICE OF LIFE

My grandmother's kitchen table had a dent in the corner from where my uncle dropped a cast iron skillet in 1987. Nobody fixed it. It became part of the table. Every Thanksgiving someone would run their thumb over it and tell the story again. The table's been gone for years, but I can still feel that dent under my fingers if I close my eyes.

Until next Tuesday,
Nino

P.S. If someone you love doesn't have a will yet, forward this to them — it might start the conversation. And if you've got questions, hit reply. I read every one.

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