As I have finally decided to make my move to Texas official, I’ve realized it’s also time to do something incredibly responsible: Update my “If Something Happens to Me” file. This is not morbid. This is not pessimistic. This is not me assuming the worst. This is me acknowledging that I am a 50-something single woman with a life, accounts, responsibilities, and children who should not be left playing detective if something goes sideways.
Moving states is a natural checkpoint. Addresses change. Laws change. And the mental note that says “I should probably take care of that” officially expires.
This isn’t about planning to disappear. It’s about planning not to leave a mess.
