(Back to) The Way We Were

  It’s hard to believe that it’s now been five years ago that many of us went into our places of work, packed up, and went home for what most thought would be a week, maybe two — and wound up being a lot more than that.

I was reminded of just how long it had been at a meeting last week — a group that first gathered a little more than five years ago. Honestly, until it came up in discussions, I hadn’t realized how long it had been — and how much has changed since.

In March 2020, my wife and I had just returned from a funeral in the Boston area. While the worst of what we would come to learn about COVID was — well, yet to be learned — we knew that cautions were in order. So we drove, rather than flew to the event — which wound up being full of strangers (many of whom were in what would come to be acknowledged as “vulnerable” health categories).

In hindsight, what might have been a “super spreader” event didn’t turn out to be one —even though less than 48 hours later the governor of the Commonwealth was putting in place lockdowns and restrictions that would have precluded our trip. We’ve not regretted that trip for a moment over the past five years, though on more than one occasion since I’ve thought to myself just how remarkable that was. It could have been life-changing.   

Back to ‘Normal’

Of course, by some, perhaps most, measures — we’re now back to “normal.” Oh, I know there are still debates about returning to the office, and there are doubtless more Zoom/Team calls today than pre-COVID (though almost certainly less than there were in the middle of it). That said, one rarely sees a mask in public these days, even in the most crowded airports. Indeed, what some might call resilience, others term complacency — and there’s little doubt in my mind that, for ill or better, should another pandemic emerge, we’ll likely respond differently than we did for COVID.   

That said, while COVID, or the response to COVID, has affected us all in some ways — and continues to do so — the impact was … uneven. Some industries — ours included — pretty much packed up one night, went home — and continued to do what we do every day (with modest adjustments). Some — notably schools — tried to pivot to remote learning overnight with what were deemed necessary, but arguably unsatisfying results. At some point, we should have learned (admitted?) that viruses don’t respect bar curfews, and that religious gatherings are no more (or less?) hazardous than gathering in bars or restaurants (except perhaps, to the economy). 

And then there were some — and here one can’t help but acknowledge the bravery, commitment and sacrifice of healthcare and long-term care workers — who not only “couldn’t,” but were required to put their very lives at risk in the service of others. Indeed, I’ve walked away from this experience convinced that (1) most of the jobs that can’t be done from home are probably worth more than they’re paid; (2) many likely live further from work than we’d prefer; and (3) many of us live further from the ones we love than we realize.

All that said, five years ago who could have imagined how much our lives — and our very way of existence could change … overnight. While there were many dark and uncertain days in between then and now, I’m in awe of the resilience with which we’ve recovered, the degree to which we have returned — more or less — to “normal.” That said, I hope we never lose our collective memory of what it was like to open our mail outdoors, to feel the ache of not being able to gather with loved ones, or worse — to be precluded from being with them at life’s end.       

With all the sadness and uncertainty that came with COVID, I’m thankful for its renewed appreciation for life, family, and friends — for the time it gave to think about what’s really important in life. For the reminder it provided of the impact and importance our physical health brings to our focus on financial preparations, and yet the critical role that our financial preparations provide in and for our lives. 

Here’s hoping, in other words, that while in many ways we are back to “the way we were” — that that “way” includes a renewed appreciation for what we have — and what we might yet lose.

• Nevin E. Adams, JD

Life-Changing Times

 It’s hard to believe that just two years ago many of us went into our places of work, packed up, and went home for what most thought would be a week, maybe two—and wound up being a lot more than that.

In March 2020, my wife and I had just returned from a funeral in the Boston area. While the worst of what we would come to learn about COVID was—well, yet to be learned—we knew that cautions were in order. So we drove, rather than flew to the event—which wound up being full of strangers (many of whom were in what would come to be acknowledged as “vulnerable” health categories). Throughout we were aware, conscious of a certain risk, but we were not overly cautious—about on the order of what you would do when you come into contact with someone who had a cold. 

In hindsight, what might have been a “super spreader” event didn’t turn out to be one—even though less than 48 hours later the governor of the Commonwealth was putting in place lockdowns and restrictions that would have precluded our trip. We’ve not regretted that trip for a moment over the past two years, though on more than one occasion since I’ve thought to myself just how remarkable that was. It could have been life-changing.   

In fact, the past two years have been life-changing in such different ways—many have lost loved ones, and, worse, been precluded from saying “good-bye”—others have had damage to their health, or the health of loved ones—many more have suffered financial hardship—and, incredibly, some have not only emerged relatively unscathed, but prospered, at least financially—spared travel and commuting expenses, and perhaps even courtesy of assistance funds from the federal government. Most of us can identify with more than one of those categories. 

That said, while COVID, or the response to COVID, has affected us all[i] in some ways—and continues to do so—the impact was… uneven. Some industries—ours included—pretty much packed up one night, went home—and continued to do what we do every day (with modest adjustments). Others—restaurants, hotels, airlines, law enforcement, fire departments—couldn’t. Some—notably schools—tried to pivot to remote learning overnight with what are/were necessary, but arguably unsatisfying results. And then there were some—and here one can’t help but acknowledge the bravery, commitment and sacrifice of health care and long-term care workers—who not only “couldn’t,” but were required to put their very lives at risk in the service of others. 

These actions, and the response to these actions, will almost certainly be life-changing—in ways we cannot now fully appreciate. 

Amidst labels like the “Great Resignation,” it’s been widely proclaimed that we’re never going back to “normal”—that work, at least the notion of a 5 day/week physical location—has been changed…forever. And certainly, for some workers and workplaces, that is true. Whether that will be for good or ill, whether “cultures” can (or should) still be nurtured on that basis remains to be seen. 

However, the COVID pandemic has also illuminated—in a unique way—the importance of workplace benefits: the financial buffer that retirement savings can (and do) provide in an emergency, the synergies between our financial and physical health, and an opportunity for these programs to be—to the extent they aren’t already—an integral component of an organization’s culture.

And if these programs are an integral component of your culture—what does it say about your organization? Is it “just enough” to get by? 

Or could it be… should it be… life-changing?

- Nevin E. Adams, JD

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[i] Indeed, I’ve walked away from this experience convinced of a couple of things: (1) most of the jobs that can’t be done from home are probably worth more than they’re paid; (2) many of us live further from the ones we love than we realize; and (3) many likely live further from work than we’d prefer. 

"Certain" Circumstances

 My wife and I recently celebrated our wedding anniversary—it was a “big” one, one of those that almost takes your breath away thinking about how rich your life together has been.

If someone had asked on my wedding day if I thought I’d still be alive and married this many years hence, I’m sure that I would have expressed confidence, likely strong confidence, in both outcomes. However, if someone on that same day had asked me to guess then where I would be living now, what I would be doing for a living, or what my income would be (or need to be)—well, my responses would likely have been much less certain—and trust me, I would have been… wrong.

Not that there haven’t been bumps along the road—life is a series of zig-zags, after all—and no matter how carefully you try to plan—well, life is what happens to you while you’re making other plans, right? There was the wedding limo with faulty air conditioning on the hottest July day in history, the flat tire in the middle of nowhere with a packed family van (not the best time or place to learn where the “new” jack was located), the emergency appendectomy of a child halfway across the world (not to mention that of another child several hundred miles away at college), the cross-country trip where the rental vehicle had been chosen with an eye toward the size of the family—without taking into account the luggage said family would require for that trip, the “discovery” while trying to rush for a late flight that (apparently) my son’s relatively common name had flagged him for special scrutiny by TSA—and the night spent sleeping in the family van near the Grand Canyon because—sometimes and someplaces you really can’t find a hotel room at the very last minute without a reservation.

As uncertain as life’s paths can be, there is at least some rational science to retirement planning, but even then there’s the unknown as to the “when” you’ll retire, the how much you’ll want—or need—not to mention the “what” you’ll need/want to be able to afford once you’ve crossed that threshold. Not that there aren’t those kind of decisions throughout one’s career—but once that post-work threshold has been crossed—what we still tend to think of as “retirement” (though some might have another word for it these days)—well, it feels like one’s options are fewer, even if they needn’t be.

“Disruptions” are the bane of a fixed income, of course. Just when you think you have it all balanced out, you have to spend (a lot) more for gasoline, pay a higher real estate tax bill, scrape up some money for a new prescription drug, deal with the financial consequences of an unexpected medical emergency. That—despite the experience of the past several months—this can happen at the same time that your investment portfolio is taking a sustained “hit,” or that you are told the house you are living in is worth a lot less than it was (on paper, anyway) a year ago—and all of a “sudden” inflation raises its ugly head—well, it all contributes to a sense of economic uncertainty.

Throw in the gyrations of a global pandemic that can impact not only your employment options, but your portfolio value, and your longevity… well, it’s an environment that can leave one feeling that the notion of living on a “fixed” income might not be up to the task over the next couple of decades—and with some justification.

It’s been said that the only sure things are death and taxes—but the lesson for those of us still drawing a paycheck—and planning for the time when we won’t—is the importance of preparing for that third “sure” thing: uncertainty.

- Nevin E. Adams, JD