When I started managing money for people, I genuinely believed that the only connection that mattered between my clients and me was investment performance, and that the quality, or even the existence, of a personal relationship was almost inconsequential. A decade and a half of experience has taught me how very misguided this belief was. My clients, mostly high net worth individuals and families, care about long-term performance but more importantly they look to my firm to help them solve life problems that involve money. Naturally, investment returns are essential to helping solve money related problems, but they are merely a single tool in a world that demands a full toolbox. During the course of this year I have found myself unexpectedly introduced to a problem involving much more than money: the world of senior living and end-of-life care.

In January, my client, Mrs. Li (not her real name), initiated a conversation with me about moving to a senior living community that, over the ensuing months, led to further conversations with her to understand the motivations of a healthy and active 75-year-old to start thinking about this. Researching the topic for Mrs. Li led me to realize that 20% of my firm’s clients now have one or more family members aged 75 or older. (They were not that old when we started!). An even larger client cohort has living parents who may call on them for advice and possibly financial support. Mrs. Li’s query was most likely the tip of the spear, an indicator of the types of questions that lie ahead and the problems I would be asked to help solve.

Mrs. Li’s question also led me to reflect on the aging happening in my own family. As a result of divorce, I have two sets of parents. My mother and stepfather are aged 74 and 79, while my father and stepmother are 74 and 88. Dad now gets around on a walker, and while the other three are still fairly active, none of them matches Mrs. Li for physical fitness. If she’s thinking about the next step of living I would be remiss not to think of my own family’s situation.

In the months that followed that first email from Mrs. Li, I have begun to read books and articles on aging and mortality. I have read annual reports of publicly traded senior housing companies and municipal bond prospectuses of developers of senior living communities. I have had surprisingly intimate conversations with old friends about the last stages of life of their parents, some of which deeply shook me. I have begun to tour communities and talk to their managers. In short, Mrs. Li’s email started me on a journey to become better informed about living during the final phase of life, to better serve her, my family and my clients. Most of us hate discussing this, and I can attest that the conversations with family are unpleasant at best. But the journey so far has convinced me that the topic is far too important for wise, caring people to ignore, or to manage as part of a crisis rather than as part of a plan.

The topic of senior living is vast. Emotions and finances are but two important dimensions that demand consideration. There are many different types of senior living communities and care options that one would be well served to understand when making a decision for oneself or advising a loved one. Over the coming weeks and months, I plan to publish articles covering different aspects of end-of-life care as I learn and discover more about the associated industries.

For those reading this who are interested in learning more now, I highly recommend picking up a copy of Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. Dr. Gawande has been a favorite author of mine for some time, but this was the last of his books I read because of my reluctance to engage with the topic. It is not an easy read. I had to pause in the middle of Chapter Six, "Letting Go," and put the book down. But I found the book essential to develop a framework for understanding what happens at the end of life, how to approach the subject intentionally and to shine some light on what conversations with family might look like. For those like me who have yet to lose a parent, this was especially helpful. It does not hurt that Dr. Gawande is a brilliant writer and storyteller.