By Mary Snedden

The doors and sides of my refrigerator visually display a petite taped summary of my current life. Memos, scripture verses and photos-mostly of grand kids and our children have key billing. Less obvious on the sides of the refrigerator are a few photos of our family at holiday gatherings, several seafood recipes from magazines, a picture of our Army daughter in Iraq, a magnet from a fishing trip in Alaska and two inconspicuous legal-sized envelopes for three loved ones.

One of the envelopes is labeled, Olivia. “Livy” is three years old. My husband and I are the back-up baby sitters. The “Livy envelope” contains a note from Livy’s parents giving my husband and I legal permission to make medical decisions in an emergency. This Permission to Treat document also includes her SSN, date of birth, regular physician’s name and phone numbers, health insurance information and 24/7 phone numbers for authorization or questions. It also states that Olivia does not have allergies or known medical issues. The document is dated and signed by both of her parents.

The second envelope is labeled, Mom and Dad. The papers in this envelope are copies of Health Care Directives prepared by my parents who are in their mid and late nineties. The health care directives define what procedures will be administered if they are admitted to the hospital and are unresponsive. Our legal climate now demands that health care workers prolong life unless the patient has previously stated otherwise and/or delegated authority via written documents. Without these documents, end of life decisions are agonizing for the entire family. Also there is a copy of the Power of Attorney granted to me for medical decisions.

So my refrigerator has both cute pictures and important stuff. But the contents of two plain envelopes remind me that there are two separate generations of family who have blessed me. These are people I love dearly and one day they will depend on me when they need help.

As an official member of the boomer generation I started assessing my own home. A farmhouse built in 1920; our family has lived here for almost thirty years. By now we know most of our homes quirks and idiosyncrasies. Someday we will sell by choice or necessity. In the interim, I am creating a file on our home with much of our tribal information in one spot. My goal is to have our home’s information in one place for the next person. This person will, then, have an easier journey understanding the plumbing, heating, wiring, maintenance, well, septic system and drainage of our home.

Unsure of the best way to start this thankless process I used the Life’s Stuff workbook chapter on “The Family House”. There were places to list the home insurance policy with the name of the agent and phone; a section for the home related services like pest control, utilities and heating/cooling companies. I have added to this information with dates of home improvements and new appliances. This chapter also includes a section for listing the location of a photo inventory list. If you live in condo and have a locker, parking space or common space you can include a homeowner’s manual. Think of this as a medical chart for a home instead of a patient.

It sounds like a huge task akin to other forms of life torture. But once you have a starting place the organization and compilation of this information is surprisingly rewarding-but most of all it gave me the strength of preparation for the unknown. Work through the chapter, clean out old source files as you go, makes notes for your next update and place information for the next update in one folder. Next time it the update is easy and you know what to add and where. Our children all know where the book is located. If tragedy strikes, the transition is fairly benign as the house information is all in one spot for the realtor and potential buyer. It took some work but my children have been relieved of a huge weight and I feel joy at truly being the steward of my home.