Life, Death & Data
Where do I begin?
I guess I could start by explaining my spotty blogging this summer.
We live in an area called Central NY. Actually, smack in the center of New York state, we’re in a ‘burb of Syracuse. This is simply one of the most strikingly beautiful places to live — filled with rolling hills, clear lakes, pastures, farms, and indeed a city that has many claims to fame (other than being the home of the Syracuse University “Orangemen” !) Summers here are beyond beautiful….but winters are a little brutal at times. (Syracuse is the fourth snowiest city in the country averaging over 100 inches a year…and when those winds blow, you simply don’t want to go out.)
Anyway, with two small children, summer is the time we let loose and spend as much time outside (untethered to the computer) as we can. (Thank goodness for cell phones and PDAs…I am always able to get a few things done while being mobile.)
This year, my business, Catenate, LLC took on a very challenging project for our favorite client — HP and indeed, that was a big focus during my working (and non-working) hours.
Added to that pressure, of course, we have had our house on the market. Keeping things spotless was a bit challenging — but that was part of our daily lives, too. Knowing that we could move at any time, I’ve been hesitant to change office space and add an assistant or two…I was waiting, in kind of a limbo, until the dust settled.
Like many of us in the sandwich generation, with parents and young kids — this summer was also a time of hospitals and nursing homes.
I am sad to share that after a six year battle with emphysema, lymphedema, depression, with no hope for a cure — my dad passed away last week. He wasn’t happy, he wanted relief from years of pain. He knew the end was near, but I don’t think he really expected to die so soon. While we weren’t shocked, death is never easy, no matter how much you think you’re prepared for its inevitable presence at your doorstep.
Dad was a smart man, and he planned for the future. He had a will and a financial planner, but unfortunately, he wasn’t very organized. My mom, like many women of her generation, didn’t pay the bills, and doesn’t have a handle on the finances. So, my sisters and I are tasked with locating and logging all of the assets he and my mom shared so that we can plan for her future.
So…as you can imagine, my focus wasn’t really on demographic data in the least.
I was intrigued though, by the whole administrative side of death. The questions on the death certificate such as place of birth, cause of death, and other pieces of information that could be used to show how mobile our society is. How do we live? How do we marry? When do we die, and why?
And of course, the first thing that came to mind when we determined that we’d have to hunt for assets is the fact that just about every financial transaction has a social security number associated with it. I’ve been making calls to see if there is an IRS database which might give us clues as to where to look. We’re looking through cancelled checks (which gives great insight), credit card bills (calling for the report today) and other pieces in the paper trail that one can’t avoid while living in modern society.
Looking through receipts we can see where he chose to spend his money — on prescription drugs, food, etc. The analyst in me wonders if there are patterns associated with behavior and death. While hopefully we can use numbers and databases to learn more about one side of the man we loved as our dad, you can never reduce a person down to mere numbers.
Looking at the house I grew up in, the house in disrepair after years of neglect, its hard to put a number on its value — or lack there of. To my mom, its as clear as can be in her head. She adds the years spent together there (40+), the kids (3), the animals, the neighbors, the good memories and yes, the bad…. and can’t imagine moving. My sisters and I see her future tied up in an asset that can be sold and will likely be completely torn down or remodeled beyond recognition. To come to some kind of resolution that preserves and honors her memories yet provides for a future certainly filled with healthcare bills — is something that we need to do. We’ll use databases that show recent sales in the area, upgrades, tax rates — all this data will help us assign a value that can be used to turn memories into cash. But will it be fair? Of course, its all relative.
So, I’m back. And while I can’t promise any revelations, I do look forward to taking a second look at sources of data that we take for granted.
