The Privilege of Waiting for Death
I visited a HS teacher at his retirement home in Dasmarinas, Cavite a few weeks back and I was dumbstruck when he casually told me that he was just waiting for God to call him. The conversation pretty much went like this:
Me: Brother Harry!
Brother Harry: Oh my! Hello! Hello you precious girl!
Me: How are you doing?
Brother Harry: Doing fine considering everything and waiting for God to call me.
My mouth was agape for a few seconds after that and I might have blubbered something totally inappropriate or off-tangent, but as we chatted some more, I found myself envying him for living a full life. He heeded his vocation to become a brother straight out of high school and has educated several generations of students since then. In fact, it was a good thing I visited when I did because he was on his way to Malaysia to attend the 50th high school reunion of one of the batches he taught.
I cannot imagine dying any time soon, but the idea of waiting for death like a friend is something that I hope to also have the privilege of when my time comes. But of course I know that I might keel over right after I publish this post, or even in the middle of typing it, that's why I'm obsessed with ensuring that my son is well provided for when I go.
When it comes to life insurance, my goal is to be insured for 6M, which is about 10 years worth of my annual basic pay. So far with my life insurance policies (both VUL and term) and the resale value of one of the condos, I can already account for 3.5M to 4M of the ideal 6M. I also plan on maximizing the BPI Save Up insurance coverage of 2M so my savings should reach 400k to qualify for the full insurance payout. My investments will then be set aside for his education, just biding their time until my son enters HS and college.
I really should also draft an affidavit of self-adjudication for my husband, but considering that I have lots of lawyer friends and family members, I have no doubt that someone will help him out if I predecease him (which is honestly very unlikely because he's older than me and women traditionally outlive men. Although I do travel more than him, making me more prone to accidents). My primary concern now is how my husband will handle the finances when I'm gone. Will he be able to make the insurance money stretch for the next 15 to 20 years? Will my son be alright without a mother?
I therefore conclude that I am not yet ready to die.
When my hair is white and my grandchildren are aplenty, I will gladly embrace Death and welcome him into my home. But for now while my son needs me, Death better stay far, far away.