Reminders and Remberances

As we headed to San Diego last week, two things were uppermost in my mind.

The Summit, of course — you don’t spend 10 months of your life focused on pulling together (and executing) the nation’s largest (and for my money, best) retirement plan advisor conference without running through your mind a constant list of things to be done, things that you think were done, but you’re not sure, and, of course — the things you COMPLETELY forgot about until the day before you fly out.

The other thing was my father. See, April 1 was the anniversary of my father’s passing, and while it’s been 17 years, I still remember that day. It was unexpected — on a Saturday morning when such calls are inevitably good or awful news. I had just wrapped up my weekly column when I got that call — from my sister. My father, who had been battling cancer for several years now, had suffered a series of heart attacks. By the end of the day and, sadly, several hundred miles away from our home — he had passed.

He had, by then, had nearly a decade’s worth of retirement — not as long as most hope for, but to that point he had outlived any of the men in his family line — and he was, as they say, prepared to meet his Maker. There’s a great peace with knowing such things amidst the sorrow and heartache, and I was grateful for it, and the comfort it gave my mother.

We know that, as ironic as it sounds, death is a part of life. Thoughtful individuals prepare for the possibility of death — through faith and, with luck, sound financial planning. Most don’t dwell on those realities on a daily basis, and that’s doubtless a good thing. In my Dad’s case, he — thanks to my mother’s example — had done what they needed to do to sustain their then-current, albeit modest, lifestyle in retirement — in no small part a result of the sacrifices they made during their working lives.

In this business, we spend a lot of time worrying about the risks of outliving our retirement savings. Participants increasingly seem to rely on an assumption that they will work longer, or save more later, to make up for their current shortfalls. Seventeen years later my Mom continues to benefit from those earlier decisions. Don’t bother telling me that those of modest incomes can’t or won’t save.  

As we leave San Diego this week — chock full of inspiring keynotes, insightful content, and amazing networking experiences — I’ve been reminded, anew and afresh, of just how important what WE do, and how we do it — as individuals, and as industry professionals, is in terms of helping provide a sustaining post-career lifestyle. And how lucky I am to be part of that effort.

To this day my parents’ example reminds me that those results come from decisions — big ones, and a zillion small daily ones — to set aside for the post-career life we hope to have. It is a decision, a choice.

Here’s hoping more of us make the right one — while we can — so that those we leave behind will have better, easier ones.

- Nevin E. Adams, JD

"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