A comprehensive AI agent skill for estate planning and will preparation. Helps you understand what a will covers, what happens without one, how to inventory...
There is a particular kind of procrastination that feels responsible. You tell yourself you will write a will when the house is paid off, when the children are older, when things are more settled, when you have more to leave behind. The reasoning sounds measured. The effect is identical to simply never doing it.
Sixty percent of adults do not have a will. The reasons cluster predictably around discomfort and deferral. It is morbid to think about. It is complicated to do. It is expensive to get right. It is something for later.
Later arrives without announcement. And the cost of dying without a will is paid entirely by the people you leave behind — in legal fees, in family conflict, in outcomes you would never have chosen if anyone had thought to ask you.
Writing a will is not an act of confronting death. It is an act of caring for people who will still be here after you are not.
When someone dies without a will, the state fills the silence with its own rules. These rules follow a fixed hierarchy of inheritance that bears no relationship to the actual wishes, relationships, or circumstances of the person who died.
A partner of twenty years who was never legally married may receive nothing while distant relatives inherit automatically. Children from a previous relationship may be treated differently than the law intends. The person you would trust above anyone else to raise your children has no legal standing unless you named them. The causes you spent your life supporting receive not a single dollar.
The estate goes through probate — a court-supervised process that is public, slow, and expensive — rather than passing directly to the people you intended. Families who were close before the death find themselves navigating legal processes and financial ambiguity at the worst possible moment.
None of this is hypothetical. It happens constantly, to people who meant to get around to the will eventually.
A will is a legal document that answers four essential questions on your behalf after you can no longer answer them yourself.
Who receives what you own. You decide who inherits your assets and in what proportions, rather than allowing the state to decide according to rules that may have nothing to do with your relationships or intentions. You can be as specific or as general as your situation requires — leaving everything to one person, dividing assets among many, making specific bequests of particular items to particular people.
Who carries out your instructions. The executor is the person responsible for administering your estate — gathering assets, paying debts and taxes, and distributing what remains according to your wishes. Choosing the right person for this role matters more than most people realize. It requires not just trustworthiness but the organizational capacity and emotional stability to handle a complex administrative process while also grieving.
Who raises your children. For parents of minor children, this is the decision that makes writing a will feel most urgent and most painful. Naming a guardian does not guarantee that person will serve — circumstances change and courts retain discretion — but it creates a clear record of your wishes that carries significant weight. Dying without naming a guardian leaves this decision entirely to a judge who knew nothing about your family.
What happens to your digital life. Accounts with monetary value. Subscriptions. Intellectual property. Sentimental digital assets like photographs that exist only online. The law has not fully caught up with the reality of digital estates, which means explicit instructions matter more than ever.
Before you can write a will or meaningfully instruct an attorney, you need to know what you own. Not approximately. Specifically.
This is where most people discover that their estate is more complex than they thought — not because they are wealthy, but because assets accumulate in ways that are easy to lose track of. A retirement account opened at a job held fifteen years ago. A life insurance policy with a beneficiary designation that reflects a relationship that no longer exists. A bank account that is jointly held in a way that has significant legal implications.
The skill walks you through a complete inventory covering every category of asset: bank and investment accounts, retirement accounts and their current beneficiary designations, real property and how it is titled, vehicles, life insurance policies, business interests if any, valuable personal property, and digital assets.
It flags the assets that transfer outside of a will through beneficiary designations or joint ownership — because these assets pass directly to the named beneficiary regardless of what your will says, which means a will that does not account for this structure may not accomplish what you intended.
An estate planning attorney charges by the hour. Every minute spent explaining concepts you could have understood in advance, or reconstructing asset information you could have organized beforehand, is time and money spent on preparation rather than actual legal work.
The skill prepares you completely before you walk in the door. Organized asset inventory with account types and approximate values. Clear decisions made about beneficiaries, executor, and guardian. A list of specific bequests you want to make. Questions prepared for the aspects of your situation that require genuine legal judgment — the things you cannot figure out without professional guidance.
Your attorney should be advising you on legal strategy and drafting documents. The skill ensures that is how your time together is actually spent.
This is the most common and most consequential misunderstanding in estate planning.
Retirement accounts, life insurance policies, and some bank and investment accounts transfer directly to the person named as beneficiary on the account — completely independently of your will. A will that says one thing and a beneficiary designation that says another will not produce a compromise. The beneficiary designation wins.
People discover this in the worst possible way. An ex-spouse receives a retirement account worth decades of savings because the beneficiary designation was never updated after the divorce. A child is excluded from a significant asset because the account was opened before they were born and nobody remembered to add them.
The skill helps you audit every beneficiary designation across every account and ensure that the full picture of your estate plan — will and designations together — reflects what you actually intend.
A will written before marriage may leave nothing to your spouse. A will written before children were born may not provide for them. A will written when your named executor was the right person may now name someone who is no longer in your life in the same way.
Estate plans go stale. Life changes and documents do not update themselves.
The skill tracks the life events that typically require revisiting your estate plan: marriage or divorce, the birth or adoption of a child, the death of a named beneficiary or executor, a significant change in assets, a move to a different state where different laws apply. When these events occur, it prompts you to review the relevant parts of your plan and flags what specifically may need to change.
An estate plan is not a document you write once. It is a living record of your intentions that should reflect who you are and what you have now — not who you were and what you had when you first got around to it.
Estate planning is jurisdiction-specific and highly dependent on the details of your individual situation. This skill helps you understand the landscape, organize your thinking, and prepare for professional guidance. It does not replace a licensed estate planning attorney. For anything involving significant assets, complex family circumstances, or business interests, professional legal counsel is essential.
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