Thursday, July 27, 2006

Thinking of my dad

I've been working on some changes to some life insurance policies I inherited when my dad died. My dad took out insurance policies on all of us kids when we were less than a year old. They aren't huge, but they're whole life, and they keep gaining value. And the other interesting thing about these policies is that they come with "guaranteed purchase options." This means that you have the option to purchase additional insurance, without having to prove that you're actually "insurable."

Well, I've inherited two sets of policies, the set that insures me, and the set that insures my brother Paul. It's occurred to me lately that not having to prove insurability is the only way that Paul will qualify for life insurance (a smoker with severe persistent mental illness?!!). So when I got a notice a few weeks ago that he had a "guaranteed purchase option" coming up, I decided to set up an appointment and exercise the option.

This is a strange experience on so many levels. It is very strange to buy life insurance for someone else. Let's be clear: there's still not enough money involved to cover a funeral for Paul. It's not like I'm going to make a profit off the thing. But it's really weird to sit there and think, "so, if I buy this, how much do I get when he dies?" It's even weirder to ask that question. But you have to ask it. Maybe this is morbid, but at this point, I've buried two parents, and I know this isn't enough to cover a funeral. Luckily, Paul will have six more "guaranteed purchase options" between now and when he turns 40. God, I hope he turns 40.

Another level of strangeness: it turns out my policy will be up for a guaranteed purchase option in a couple of months, but the agent got the okay to do the paperwork early. I thought about it a little and decided to go for it. It didn't feel quite as weird to buy insurance on myself. It felt all responsible. Whoever buries me will have a little less to worry about. But you also think about that: who will bury me? Who will sort through my finances when I'm gone? Weird.

Last level of strangeness. Did I mention that all this insurance is Knights of Columbus insurance? So this is this Catholic fraternal organization that my dad was a part of. The agent talked about "brother knights" and all this stuff. We're 1500 miles away from my hometown, but this guy is talking about taking care of me and my brother and our life insurance needs like taking care of the needs of his brother's kids. It was really sweet. And he could have been one of the guys that always said hello to my dad at Mass and were always doing the parish barbeques and raffle tickets, and who showed up in droves for his funeral. And it really made me miss my dad. It also really made me appreciate my dad and how far-sighted he was about certain things: life insurance and wills and pre-planning his own funeral expenses. It's funny how many forms love can take.

Most of the time, my mom is my model for how I should try to love my brother Paul. But this week, I followed my dad.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Your dad and I breakfasted together on 9/11 five years ago now. We had no idea the world would change. We were at Town and Country for that breakfast. He was very interesting to talk with that morning. I miss him.