09/24/2025
Last week was the anniversary of my dad's death. Rick Waddell died on September 19, 2018 from cancer at 62 years old. One week later, his youngest brother and my uncle, Tom Waddell, died unexpectedly of a heart attack at 51 years old.
That week in 2018 is the reason I ultimately shifted my legal practice to estate planning, and it deeply informs my approach to this work.
Two of the greatest lessons I learned were:
1. I needed a Village. As a new transplant to Ann Arbor, I didn’t have close friends I could count on. In PA, I experienced deep roots—my parents had both grown up in the area. Hundreds of people showed up for my family, both during my Dad’s hospice and through the ICU death of my Uncle. No need went unmet. I wondered, who would show up for me if tragedy struck?
2. I needed a Plan. Even though I was a lawyer and a young mom, I didn’t have a Will or any other documents that I might need. My Dad was sick and had put a plan in place; my Uncle was young and healthy and, like most of us, had not yet made a plan. I watched how differently post-death estate stuff played out for our families.
We all need a Village and a Plan. The part that many people miss is that THE VILLAGE IS THE PLAN. They go hand-in-hand, because the true power in any estate plan is not the document or the bank account; it’s the people you name in those documents, whose judgment you trust to enact your plan.
When I returned to “normal life,” I intentionally started building community. I baked and froze lasagnas to deliver to those who might need a home-cooked meal. When a friend was in need, I dropped everything to be there for them. I made an effort to invite neighbors and new friends over for dinner and I showed up to community events. With each engagement, my life grew richer and more beautiful.
Four years after my Dad and Uncle died, my third child, Viggo Rick, was born with a severe genetic condition. Viggo was an amazing little boy who defied the odds by even arriving earthside. He dazzled everyone who met him with his penetrating blue eyes and magical fingers. He completed our little family.
One of the many beautiful gifts of Viggo’s life was the opportunity to feel the presence of my new village. My neighbors came together to finish Viggo’s nursery while we were in the NICU, as he had come early. Friends and acquaintances from all over the world sent meals and messages of love and support. Others raised money for in-home nursing care and a generator so that Viggo’s breathing machine would never lose power. Our older children were always cared for while my husband and I were in the hospital with Viggo.
If there’s one thing I hope you take from my story, it’s this: don’t wait. Start building your Village now, and make your Plan while things are good. An excellent Plan is necessary but not sufficient. It's the people, not the documents, who will hold you up when the bottom falls out.
