I've learned something humbling about certainty: it doesn’t stand a chance against real life. I once said I would never become a lawyer. Then I moved to Nashville, graduated from Vanderbilt Law School, and stepped into a career I hadn’t planned.

Tuesday Triage

January 20, 2026

Hi there,

 

I’ve learned something humbling about certainty: it doesn’t stand a chance against real life. I once said I would never become a lawyer. Then I moved to Nashville, graduated from Vanderbilt Law School, and stepped into a career I hadn’t planned.

 

I resisted tax law even harder. When my first boss told me he wanted me to specialize in it, I felt instant dread. Years later, I graduated from NYU with a masters in tax law.

 

Then came geography. Michigan was never supposed to be permanent, just a practical little house so we could see family more often. My law license, my work and my professional identity were all rooted in Tennessee.

 

Now Michigan is home.

 

And the latest twist? The one I was most adamant about? I never considered starting my own law practice. Yet here I am, doing exactly that. I’ll share more soon, but once again, life is rearranging what I thought was fixed.

 

And that’s exactly the kind of shift that breaks estate plans.

Today’s Tuesday Triage episode is about what happens when a Will assumes life will stay still… and it doesn’t.

 

There’s a legal word for this: ademption.

 

In most states, ademption occurs when a Will leaves someone a specific asset — a house, a bank account, jewelry, a vehicle — and that exact item no longer exists in the estate at death. If it’s gone, the gift fails. No substitute, no sales proceeds, nothing.

 

Courts don’t care what you intended. They care whether the asset was still there. They ask one brutal question: Did the property still exist at death?

But Michigan is different.

 

Today’s question comes from Judy, a Michigan listener who sold her Lake Michigan house, the same house she specifically left to one of her daughters in her Will.

 

Does Judy need to update her Will? Yes. But what happens if she doesn’t is where Michigan law gets interesting — and dangerous.

 

Unlike most states, Michigan starts from a presumption that gifts don’t automatically disappear. Instead, the law tries to give the beneficiary something tied to that property. And that “something” lives in a gray statutory area that can easily trigger confusion, resentment, and probate litigation between siblings.

 

Today, I walk through exactly what Judy’s daughter might receive and why unclear assumptions can plant landmines inside any estate plan.

It’s not dramatic while you’re alive. It’s devastating after you’re gone.

Most estate plan failures come from outdated assumptions.

 

The Death Readiness Playbook was built for exactly this gap. It helps you document what you own, clarify your intentions, and make sure your plan still works when life inevitably shifts.

 

Because the danger isn’t death. It’s change without preparation.

Thanks for being here.