In a previous column, I observed that I had never met anyone who regretted how much money they saved for retirement. I can't say that anymore. Two weeks ago on a podcast, the host, Laurice Duffy, expressed that very sentiment and left me speechless.
Laurice lived a happy and humble lifestyle with her husband, a pipe fitter, and their four children (including triplets). They both were good with money and were excellent savers. Retirement was a priority. Paying off their house was a priority. They imagined the retirement they would have together. But mere months after the last payment was made on their house, her beloved husband was diagnosed with ALS at the age of 50. He died at age 53.
Five years later, Laurice acknowledges two financial advantages that she has over the situation many widows find themselves in. First, since she managed the finances, she knew where everything was, how to access it and how to continue to manage it. Second, she knew there was enough money for her. Plenty.
Her regret? If she could go back in time, then maybe she would discourage her husband from taking that Saturday shift. What if they had prioritized taking a family vacation every year? So while she feels the blessing and relief of being taken care of, she wonders if they could have spent more time as a family -- maybe struck a slightly different balance.
A travel article for the BBC observed that the Bhutanese have been named among the happiest people in the world. Some wonder if it's a result of an unusual (by American standards) practice: They contemplate their death every day.
They go further to link what scientists at the University of Kentucky found on thinking about death. People were divided into two groups. One was asked to think about going to the dentist. The other group was asked to think about death. Then they were asked to finish stem words. The second group completed them with a greater number of positive words. The conclusion? "Death is a psychologically threatening fact, but when people contemplate it, apparently the automatic system begins to search for happy thoughts."
Americans don't tend to think a lot about death, something that Jen O'Brien has poured her soul into changing with her gorgeous book, "The Hospice Doctor's Widow." If you follow her speeches and social media posts, then it can seem jarring how open, candid and sometimes humorous she approaches the topic of death.
And I think she is onto something, especially if we want to optimize how we use our money or time.
Pop quiz. Think about something you want to buy now -- really, really badly. Something big. "OK, I'll bite. A Tesla." Now you receive a prognosis that you have six months to live. Do you care that much about the Tesla parked in your driveway? "No."
Lynn Frair lives in Bothell, Wash., and, along with her husband, has managed to save nearly 60% of her income in a high-cost-of-living area on a median income. The how is incredible, but the why is what I want to focus on. Lynn is a hospice nurse, and she considers her job "to be a witness to their story." Over the years of noticing synchronicities and similarities in the lives of patients, she said, "I cannot help but see glimmers of my own life in their stories."
One noticeable theme in these beautiful conversations was what they remembered, cherished, prioritized. It was not the job promotions, investment accounts or expensive car in the driveway. No, what they talked about was time -- the vacations, the time with family, the experiences of life.
So, you ask, how does Lynn spend her time?
Nope, false question. Lynn does not accept the premise of such a question. The question asserts that, assuming she has to work, she works a typical 40-hour week and that as any typical American she (and her spouse) are just making the most of the limited time granted to her in the modern world and norms we accept.
The proper question is how does Lynn make time and then spend it?
Lynn did the hustle like many people early in her nursing career but saved large amounts of her pay into retirement. The compounding of that retirement money at an early age and the very modest lifestyle allowed her to make an important life decision to make more time: per diem work. Lynn literally bought herself the ability to choose to work the days she wants to work and to buy the time she wants to live with the money she doesn't need to make in order to live.
From there, her fierce defense of time continues. For instance, laundry sorting? No way. Tedious laundry loads aren't great for the environment. The answer? Clothes that don't wrinkle, no reds that can bleed into the laundry, and for those gasping in horror at the dingy white towels -- they buy gray ones!
Her husband, Carl, is a masterful chef, and part of the time they enjoy spending together is meal prep. It saves SO MUCH TIME. That's me talking to myself, offering a reminder that the question "what's for dinner" at 4 p.m. and the two-hour process of racing to the grocery store and then furiously throwing things into ovens or frying pans is not time or financially efficient. So she buys back future time with the meal prep, and the meal prep is quality time that she loves with her husband.
Even responding to my pesky questions, challenges and frustrations with her decision to not sort laundry was done with time efficiency in mind. She had invested in the technology and learning for an effective voice-to-text system. Her responses were instantly sent by voice.
My final question to her and her husband: Do you actually buy stuff? Name some purchases you have made in the present that actually increased your happiness.
Her answer was Dyson vacuums -- on each floor of the house. Oh, and her Vitamix. She says: "If I have something I really love, I may buy several. If I find a dress I love, I might buy one in every color -- except maybe red unless I really value doing a load of laundry just for that dress."
Her husband's answer? The splash pad and indoor/outdoor bouncy castles bought (and used) outdoors and, yes, indoors as well. "The average American has 300,000 items in their home and only uses 80% of those items, so we try to buy things that will get great use in our family -- like a bouncy castle."
But really, the greatest, most precious money spent in the present is on weekend trips to the ocean as a family. According to Lynn, those have a "priceless return on happiness."
Now, to be clear, I am not asking people to run out and back down their retirement savings to live in the moment. Laurice certainly wouldn't recommend it. Remember, retirement saving is like taxes. You pay it and forget about it. No, the real trade-off for most people is not time or saving enough for retirement. The trade-off is usually time or stuff. And I know this from my conversations with people. I see people discontented with their situations, whether in their work life or home life or the dreams not pursued, and I see that the thing standing in their way is usually related to how they spend money, not how they save money, as in Laurice's case.
Laurice's best advice is to wake up and realize that "Life is happening now. Do the thing!"
Lynn is a living and breathing example of living out such advice. I asked her if being around people at the end of life made her contemplate death more, similar to the Bhutanese. Her response is now taped on the bottom of my computer monitor.
"I definitely say that I contemplate death more than the average person, probably some elements multiple times a day. But I actually don't think of it as contemplating death. I think of it more as contemplating life. We all have limited time. That concept can fill us with anxiety, so I think that most people prefer not to think about it. But I actually think that it's beautiful when we consider time our most precious, limited asset -- not money."
Sarah Catherine Gutierrez is founder, partner and CEO of Aptus Financial in Little Rock. She is also author of the book "But First, Save 10: The One Simple Money Move That Will Change Your Life," published by Et Alia Press. Contact her at sc@aptusfinancial.com.