A sentence with two endings, and most of us have never finished either. Finish the essentials of both now — one honest sitting.
Helping you to prepare, and then to adapt.
Three, six or nine small things — always your choice. Start with three: a message, a person, the place. Add three more when you're ready: the will, your interment hopes, who gets what. And three more after that: who speaks for you if you can't, what good care looks like, the first page of your story. Never the mountain — just the next three.
Just today, we mean. People land here after a diagnosis, at 2am, on the bus, at the study desk. Pick the size that fits the moment — you can always change it, and it only ever grows when you say so.
In any order. Stop any time — it's saved on this device as you go.
One person per message — and write as many as you like. It doesn't need to be long or perfect; it needs to exist.
Saved only on this device. You can come back and change it any time.
Who should be told first — and who can step in, in either event. One is enough; add more if there's a team.
Every family has the place — the shoebox on the wardrobe, the book, the file, the folder, the drawer. Name yours, and nobody has to turn the house upside down looking for it.
Location only — never write account numbers or passwords here. The place is enough; the box does the rest.
Wills get found late or not at all. One honest line fixes that.
The choice families most dread guessing. One honest page and they'll never have to.
Hopes, not instructions — a will and your trusted people make them real. But written here, they're no longer a guess.
The will handles the estate. This handles the things — the ones with a story in them. One line each: the thing, and the person.
Solicitors call this a letter of wishes — it isn't legally binding, it guides whoever handles your estate, alongside the will. Families call it the page that stopped the argument.
If one day you can't decide for yourself, someone will have to. A Power of Attorney makes that your choice, not a scramble.
This note is a signpost, not a legal document — a Power of Attorney has to be set up properly to count. But knowing your wishes is where everyone starts.
If you couldn't tell them — what would you want them to know? The small things are the ones that keep you you.
Pick a moment the world remembers — then write what you remember. That's how a life story actually gets written: one page at a time, while there's time.
Most people never do this. You just did.