My dad thinks passwords will make everything easy

My dad and I have been talking a lot lately about "someday."

Not because anything is wrong, but because that's exactly when these conversations should happen... long before they're urgent.

After one of our recent Sunday morning calls, he sent me this message:

"Michelle, I've been thinking about the computer issue when I'm officially finished. The only thing you have to be concerned about is online banking. You have power of attorney so you go into the bank and they set things up. They will close the online account. There isn't anything else that you need to officially close. What thinkest Thou? This should make things easy."

I smiled. Not because he's wrong, but because he's doing exactly what almost all of us do.

He's trying to solve the problem he can see.

From his perspective, the issue is passwords and online banking. If I can get into the computer and the bank can close the account, everything else should fall into place.

But here's what immediately went through my mind...

Which bank?

Are there investment accounts?

What about insurance?

Email?

Cell phone?

His blog?

Cloud storage?

Auto-payments?

Subscriptions?

Social media?

Who do I notify?

Who even knows these things exist?

Then I remembered another conversation we'd had.

My dad told me he'd like me to keep his blog going after he's gone. It's a lovely thought, and I'm honored he'd trust me with something so personal. But then the questions started again.

What platform is the blog on?

How do I access it?

Which email account is connected to it?

Does it have two-factor authentication?

Who pays for the hosting, or is it free?

When does the domain renew?

Should I publish one final post?

Should I tell his readers?

None of those questions are answered by knowing a password.

That's when it hit me.

A password unlocks an account. It doesn't explain what to do with it.

And that's really what readiness is about. It's not just leaving behind information. It's leaving behind understanding.

The people we love shouldn't have to become detectives while they're grieving. They shouldn't spend months wondering whether there are accounts they haven't found, subscriptions still running, websites to maintain, or wishes they don't know how to honor.

Most people have good intentions. My dad certainly does.

He's trying to make things easier for me, and every conversation we have comes from a place of love.

The irony is that each conversation also reminds me how many invisible details most of us never think about until we're faced with them ourselves.

That's why we created the Response Readiness Playbooks.

Not because life is something to fear, but because life is unpredictable. And when we're a little more prepared, the people we love can spend less time searching for answers and more time taking care of one another.

After all, the people we love shouldn't have to guess.