The Gift of Knowledge and Opportunity

Turns out people feel squeamish when it comes to talking about life insurance. Myself included. To be completely honest, up until a few months ago I couldn’t discuss any insurance with true knowledge or proper understanding. While I was fully aware of my health insurance—coverages, max out of pocket expenses, co-pays, how my thyroid condition affected all of the decisions we made relating to various plans, and even the doctors I choose to treat my body and discuss my health—I was in the dark about other kinds of insurance, and how they play a complicated role in the dance known as being a grown up.

As an educated (albeit often confused consumer) when it came to health insurance, I somehow managed to make the best decisions I could to make sure I had access to the care I may one day need. Sure, I complained a lot, because it’s all so damn expensive, but I felt confident in the coverage we paid heavily for. Yet somehow when it came time to choose home and auto insurance, and especially life insurance, I kind of worked on auto pilot. I asked for a few quotes, always called it in, and never once in my 28 years of adulthood met with a trusted advisor to discuss why insurance was important, what a life policy could do for me, or what options were available.

Thankfully that has now changed. Having taken the classes necessary to sell insurance, and gone through the process of getting licensed was in a way a double gift for me. The first gift was the job offer itself, an unexpected turn in my professional life that is simultaneously unlike anything I’ve ever done and somehow the perfect fit for my personality. And the second gift was access to info I know will benefit so many other people—people just like me who never really dove into their policies or coverages, or even know what it all means.

So much knowledge, and as I have heard, so many stories. Which as a writer kind of resonates with me, because people better understand the reasons for doing something when it is presented in relatable tales, every day occurrences, or simple anecdotes. I know that life insurance is cheapest when you are young, and that it is a great way to create security in the event of an unexpected death when bought at any age. But I now know to explain it in terms of my own policy bought for me as a baby, and another as an 18-year-old. And to explain that the young have better rates because they are fresher, and often decades away from bad habits or complicated diagnoses. And I know to bring up the cash value in whole life policies because it makes even the most frugal perk up when they realize that the right policy doesn’t actually cost that much in the long term.

I have learned that an umbrellas is more than something to keep you dry when it rains, rather a layer of protection above and beyond your auto and home policies that keeps your assets covered in the event someone is injured at your apartment, in your car, on your boat or on your property. And I now know to tell the tale of the high energy kid at my son’s birthday party who rode one of our bikes down the driveway, and into the very busy street in front of our house, making it to the double line. My heart still races when I think of it. What if? And when I explain that had anything happened to him that we might have lost our house, my hearts sink even deeper. Thankfully he’s ok, but admittedly at the time, we had no umbrella besides the kind you fold up and set by the backdoor.

I also know life insurance isn’t a guarantee, and that the older we get the harder it is to grab a great rate. And that some of us won’t even be offered a policy at all. But I also know that losing weight, quitting smoking or lowering the need for certain meds can help us secure better rates after our policies are in effect. And while it may be cheaper when we are young, we all know the needs exponentially rise as we age, because as a mature humans we often have more to lose, especially if we were to leave our families with minimal resources.

And here’s the big one, perhaps the hardest one to talk about, I now know that life insurance on kids is a really smart move. Sure, it seems weird, but when bought young, life insurance is affordable, and with the right boxes checked you can guarantee your child has the ability to purchase additional life insurance in the event they cannot qualify later in life. I personally know a few kids who won’t qualify as adults, and that having guaranteed insurability is a benefit they won’t even begin to understand until they have their own families to provide for. And sadly, while the guaranteed insurability is the biggest selling point in my opinion, I now know that funerals are expensive. Like $25,000 expensive, and much to my surprise, a cash business. Not to mention the worst thing anyone will ever put together. And my heart knows, because it won’t let me forget, that since moving to Minnesota I have put colored balloons in my yard to remember and honor children who have died—there have been orange balloons, and green, and pink, and blue … and I’ve only lived here seven years. As a mother I’ve cried tears for children I never met, because that kind of loss is so damn unimaginable, and yet … so much a part of life. It’s real in a way that is hard to process.

Just like driving a black car opens your eyes to all the black cars on the same roads you drive every day—working in insurance opens your eyes to all of the what-ifs surrounding you. In the months leading up to my employment I heard of a mom, dead before 35, suddenly leaving a dad on his own with three kids under the age of six, after falling ill and dying within months of diagnosis. And another mom, dead before 50, who died following a slightly longer illness, with slightly older children, but still leaving a family behind, and children without a mother. And a grandma, dead at 62, gone in her sleep. And a sister, gone at 67, from a weird and unexpected infection. And that’s just a few women who lived in my bubble, statistically men go faster. It’s crazy, it’s hard to talk about, and yet it’s so heartbreakingly real.  

Some people think of insurance as a high priced bet against yourself. Sure, you could manage to avoid all risk, and gleefully die a 95 year old who never had a car accident or a hail damaged roof, or a slip and fall on your front porch or a grill that exploded and burned your neighbor’s house down. But for me, I think of pooling risk as the exact opposite of betting against yourself. I look at it as the best protection you can give yourself, regardless if you ever need it. You pay a little, with the hope of never calling your agent in need of that big fat check. People don’t want their houses to burn down, or plan to hurt strangers in a parking lot when they hit the gas instead of the break, or intend to leave their spouses and children with a mortgage they cannot afford or any way of climbing back into a life they once had, or plan to die early leaving devastated families behind. But as countless stories can attest, accidents, illnesses and storms (literal and emotional),  can and do find a way. What insurance does, when purchased with confidence and knowledge, is protect our dreams—our homes, our cars, our things—and perhaps most importantly, our lives, and the lives of those we love.

I pay around $350 a month for health insurance, roughly $4,200 a year for a few doctor appointments and an occasional scan or blood work. It feels like a lot. But if I ever end up with bigger issues, it will feel like a little drop in the bucket. Which is how I look at the policies I now have in place for my family—our home, our car, our umbrella, and our life policies, all four of them. Together it creates security, and provides peace of mind--a drop in the bucket compared to the other expenses involved in the dance of life.

I know it’s hard to talk about, and can feel awkward, but I think we all need to find comfort in the big conversations, and even bigger decisions. And if I don’t feel comfortable talking about the big stuff, than I’m not doing my job. I’m ready to share what I know, to tackle the big questions, and to make everyone feel good about where they stand in the event of a really awful, really horrible, really, really, really bad day.

The best gift you can ever give yourself is a sit down with an insurance expert who can help you navigate all the numbers, pick the best options, and explain all the big decisions involved in choosing plans that make the best sense for you, your family, and the legacy you plan to leave behind.

Licensed to sell auto, home, and life, I proudly sell American Family products in Edina, MN (and can also sell anywhere in Minnesota, as well as Wisconsin, Colorado, Arizona and Florida). Call or mail me today at 952.933.8945, or hlane@amfam.com to chat about your insurance needs.