The One Magic Question

by Trudy Triner

Baby Boomers have a lot of worrisome questions to answer these days:

Should I retire?

When should I retire?

Have I saved enough to last?

What will happen to my Social Security?

Are my children happy and well provided for?

Am I doing all I can for my elderly parents?

When they work with you, their professional financial advisor, it’s probably the numbers they most often discuss. Will there be enough money for them, for their children and possibly for their elderly parents? And, while many might argue that money is a vital component to happiness, from your experience, you know that it’s not the only one. 

According to best-selling author, Marshall Goldsmith, the number one question most people ask when they lose their parents is, “Did I do enough to show them they were loved and valued?” And if the answer is no, the resulting regret can haunt them for years.

But here’s the good news. You, as their valued advisor and friend, might be able to save your clients that regret by sharing with them the power of One Magic Question; a question that has resulted in a ripple of joy which is spreading to hundreds of moms, dads, grandparents, and loved ones around the world.

“How can I be a better daughter?” was the Magic Question I asked my mother during our summer visit a few years ago without the slightest inkling that it would change our lives profoundly.

Actually, I’m a bit embarrassed to say that when I asked her this question, I more or less expected her to smile, pat my hand lovingly and tell me that I was a perfect daughter in every way and there was not one single thing I could do to be any better. After all, I had made the trek from San Francisco to rural Arkansas at least once a year for 25 years. I was good to call regularly, never forgot a birthday, and sent cards for every possible holiday. What else could she possibly want? Turns out it was mail.

“Just send me more mail, honey.” That was her only request.

I should explain that my mother was 83, lived alone, and suffered from both osteoporosis and congestive heart failure. Her mailbox was almost a quarter of a mile from her front door. Her porch steps were steep and sometimes slippery. After the steps, there was a rocky and uneven path to navigate. She wore an emergency alarm just in case she should fall.

It wasn’t an easy trip, but she made it every day because she needed the exercise and because it was her connection to the world.

“When I walk all the way out there and there’s nothing but junk mail in the box, it’s kind of sad.” She told me. Even though she said it in a matter-of-fact way, I could really feel the sadness and disappointment she described. And I never wanted her to feel that way again.

So, to give those daily walks a happy ending, I started what became a delightful process for both of us. We called it our “Make Mom Happy by Mail” campaign. I was constantly on the lookout for things that might be fun for her to find in her mailbox; things that would give her a window into my life or in some way, enrich hers. Several times a week, I dropped a little something in a big blue mailbox in San Francisco and she found it in her country mailbox by the road a few days later. She never knew what would show up, and she told me that just added to the fun.

On any given day, she might have found a postcard from San Francisco, a copy of a proposal I submitted to my boss that week, a placemat from the little restaurant where I had lunch on Sunday, or a packet of dog chews for her puppy, Amber.

She might have found a copy of my grocery list, ticket stubs from the movie I saw over the weekend or a packet of colorful sponges from the dollar store. Or, just a long, newsy letter with a picture of her grandson might be in the box. And she would smile and be happy. She would read and reread the letter and laugh with her friends about the archeological dig into my life that found its way into hers.

My mom passed away quite suddenly on Easter Sunday two years ago after 22 months of our “Make Mom Happy By Mail” campaign. I missed her desperately, but not for one minute did I wonder whether or not she knew I loved and valued her because the proof was in that mailbox day after day after day. And it all came from that One Magic Question, “What can I do to be a better daughter?”

But, you might be thinking, perhaps it’s too late for your clients to ask their mom or dad this question because they already suffer from Alzheimer’s disease or dementia. And perhaps they think mail wouldn’t matter to them anyway. I’m told by the administrators of care facilities who I’ve interviewed that this simply isn’t true:

“One of the things you should know is that our patients don’t get much mail. We have 26 patients and we get maybe one or two pieces of personal mail a week. When I get one, I bring it to the patient personally. It can be an emotional time. If they can’t read, I’ll say something like, ‘Hi, Mr. Smith. I have some mail for you. Can I open it for you?’ Then I open it and read it to them. I can learn so much by that one piece of mail if it’s from a son or daughter or sister. Then the next day I might mention something about what I read in the letter and it helps me bond with them and think of them as more of an individual.”

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And it’s not just cards and letters that can accomplish this. Sometimes it’s what they get instead of cards and letters that speaks to who they are and who loves them. “One of my resident’s sons sends postcards to his dad and the staff shows the card to the resident and they read it to him. Yesterday it was a picture of Mars. Then when the son visits, he likes to read and talk to his dad about the postcard he sent” the administrator told me.

“Another woman’s mom always loved tulips, so her daughter, who lives on the East Coast, sends tulips every few weeks. Since she doesn’t remember the last ones, it’s always a special treat that not only she, but everyone, enjoys time and time again. The staff thinks of this patient as someone’s treasured mother and they always have something to talk about with her. She’s always happy to talk about tulips, because she can see and touch and smell them in the moment.

These comments about the staff’s one-on-one involvement and the resulting bonding seemed particularly important when I stumbled on the following research finding published in an issue of the Journal of Gerontology:1

“Patients who had close relationships with their caregivers retained more mind and brain function over time than patients who were not close to their caregivers. It is unclear why—further research is planned—but closer caregivers may provide better supportive and overall health care. Also Alzheimer’s patients whose caregivers feel closer to them may be less prone to depression and have a better quality of life.”

Needless to say, I was thrilled when I read those words, because they suggest that the simple act of sending a newsy letter to a loved one, regardless of their ability to read it, could help improve their quality of life by improving their relationship with the caregiver who delivers, and perhaps reads, the letter to them.

For me, asking the question, “What can I do to be a better daughter?” led to more happiness for both my mother and me than could be measured in money.  Money would have made no difference in the quality of her life or the relationship we shared.  But asking the magic question and fulfilling her wish made all the difference to us both. Perhaps it could make all the difference to your clients and their loved ones as well.

Trudy Triner is a writer, speaker, and leadership consultant who has helped people be more successful in their work for over 25 years. She is also the author of a popular blog (MakeMomHappyByMail.com) and a soon to be published book, The One Magic Question:  How Simple Things Can Make a Big Difference to Someone You Love, which encourages us all to connect with our parents in a meaningful way while the fleeting window of opportunity to do so is still open. Contract Trudy at trudy.triner@gmail.com.

1 Norton MC, Piercy KW, Rabins PV, Green RC, Breitner JC, Ostbye T, Corcoran C, Welsh-Bohmer KA, Lyketsos CG*, Tschanz JT*. “Caregiver-Recipient Closeness and Symptom Progression in Alzheimer Disease. The Cache County Dementia Progression Study.” Journal of Gerontolology Series B: Psychology Sciences and Social Sciences 2009 Jun 29. [Epub ahead of print] (*co-equal last authors)