There are a lot of things I didn’t expect when I started helping the living deal with dying.
One of them? How much time I would spend on hold.
I’ve gotten really good at enunciating “REPRESENTATIVE” into the void. And I’ve gotten weirdly comfortable dancing alone in my kitchen to whatever soft jazz is on repeat while I wait thirty minutes for a human to pick up. Good thing I work from home.
But the real weird thing I’ve gotten good at? Saying “I don’t know.”
That might sound strange coming from someone who does this work every day. But hear me out.
There is no way I’m going to know the answer to every question that comes up in estate administration. Too many variables. Too many institutions. Too many situations that don’t follow a neat, predictable path.
Questions like:Can you transport cremated remains when flying from Mexico to Canada? I don’t know… but I’ll find out.
Can my mom roll over my dad’s Costco vouchers to her account? I don’t know… but I’ll find out.
Will homeowners insurance pay for cleaning after an unattended death? I don’t know… but I’ll find out.
What happens if I don’t know my deceased loved one’s social security number? I don’t know… but I’ll find out.
Is my dad’s stamp collection worth anything? I don’t know… but I’ll find out.
Most of these don’t have a clean, Google-able answer. And honestly? That is the job. It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about knowing how to get them — who to call, what to ask, when to push, and how to keep things moving when it would be very easy for them to stall out.
If you’ve ever found yourself Googling one of these questions at midnight thinking “how am I supposed to know this?”, you’re not alone. This isn’t intuitive. Most people have never had to do it before.
It’s okay not to know.
The most useful skill in this work isn’t having all the answers. It’s not being afraid to say “I don’t know” — and then doing something about it.
