Beyond the policy: It’s about love

By Lori Friedman

For those of us who have been in the life insurance business for many years, and even those who are fairly new, we often take for granted that we do something every day that seems normal to us but not to the rest of the world. This is the ability to have uncomfortable conversations about a subject that most people will avoid until absolutely necessary - facing our mortality and the consequences it may have on others. It was cultural. We had a skill and ability to bridge the divide between telling clients what they needed to hear, not what they wanted to hear.

But in present times, the climate feels completely different - would you agree? In general, the industry has shifted toward efficiency and scale, but in doing so, something precious may have been lost. In our language, we see more science and less art, less emphasis on emotion and how it is so critical to capture hopes and dreams.

If you're fortunate, maybe another experienced professional can teach you the ropes, or maybe even you’re the one doing the teaching! Whether you sell multiple products including life insurance or focus exclusively on life insurance, ask yourself a critical question: Whether you are conducting these conversations at the kitchen table, in an office, or over Zoom, what percentage of those conversations include both spouses or all the people who matter most? How are we building relationships beyond policy counts?

Today, the policy gets issued, paid for and e-sent. But consider this: Do you think that person
went home and had a detailed conversation with their family about what they had just purchased? Or why they purchased it?

Let's be honest, most people didn’t even think about it. Now fast-forward to reality: That insured person leaves for work one morning and never makes it home. This may be your first death claim or one of many you've handled. When families come to you during this devastating time, you're the one person coming with some form of relief, a type of monetary value. The question you consistently hear is: "Am I going to be OK financially, at least?"

It's everything that happens next that truly matters. The harsh reality is simple: You just don't
know until you know. And here's something I'm absolutely certain about - there ain't nothing
digital about death and grieving.

Think about the issues someone faces when they lose a loved on. After the initial shock and necessary phone calls, one of the first things they do is look for a life insurance policy. But here's the problem: today, everything is digital. People don't even know if a policy exists. They search through papers but find nothing, so they think, "OK, let me check online." But maybe the deceased changed their password a month before they died, and the family doesn't have access to anything digital, including the bank accounts that may show premium payments.

This scenario illustrates a fundamental disconnect in our digital age. We've moved everything
online for efficiency, but we've forgotten that grief doesn't operate in the digital realm. When
someone is devastated by loss, being forced to navigate policy passwords, online portals and digital documents becomes an insurmountable burden during their most vulnerable moments. If you have the relationships, you feel saddened by the pain this causes and want to help.

While volunteering at a local high school in a predominantly Black and Brown community, this
reality became painfully clear. Families truly were devastated because they realized they weren't going to be financially OK and life had changed forever. In trying to figure things out during such an emotionally sensitive time, this experience planted the seed for understanding how drastically things needed to change, not just for underserved communities where these subjects have been taboo, but for everyone.

We all do it. Everyone of us puts our heads in the sand, acting as if not talking about death will
somehow prevent it from happening. So why can't we spark these real conversations now, while everyone is alive and well? What will actually happen? What will you need when I'm gone? What do you need to know or do I want you to know?

As insurance professionals, you're already comfortable having uncomfortable conversations
all day long. Your role could naturally extend to helping your clients have these same difficult
conversations with their own families. This isn't about changing what you do - it's about
enhancing how you connect with the families you serve and ensuring they're truly prepared.
And that’s not a digital discussion.

Brought down to its essence, we really are selling love. I learned this lesson from a master when I was in third grade. My best friend in the world, Sid Friedman, a legend in the industry, my father, was coming to class that day to tell everyone what he did for a living. He so proudly got in front of this group (think about trying to explain life insurance to a third grader!) and said “I have the best job in the world! I get up every day and I sell love!” I still think this was the best elevator talk ever.

When we are forced to make critical decisions because of a loss, we're likely to make poor choices because you're human. We should be mourning. We should be feeling every emotion.
We miss that person and are looking for comfort. We should be present with our grief. Instead,
we're drowning in administrative tasks while trying to process the deepest loss imaginable.

How do we transform a conversation that feels so frightening, because it forces us to
confront our own mortality into one of the most loving conversations we could ever have?
How do we make an incredibly difficult time just a little easier, so they can actually grieve
properly? How can we leave a piece of our heart that is impactful and lasting?

The answer involves making legacy tangible and accessible in our increasingly digital world.

We need simple, easy to understand ways to provide families with roadmaps and blueprints for creating their legacy. This includes storing everything in a loving, safe place for their loved
ones to go when they're gone - to see that complete roadmap and blueprint with everything
that goes into that legacy, all prepared with intention and care.

Legacy means something different to everyone, and every person deserves the opportunity
to leave one, regardless of their economic status, social background, or race – this is how we change lives, families and communities one person at a time. Although a life insurance policy often forms the foundation of a legacy, it's not the complete picture. We must help people with the other essential pieces to this puzzle. And it’s not online.

What greater act of love could anyone possibly demonstrate than leaving their legacy
prepared, organized and filled with intention in a place and way that will have an impact
possibly for generations? This is where initiatives like The Love Policy Box come into play,
bridging that gap from fear to love, transforming something intangible into a tangible
expression of the heart.

Because at the end of the day, all we have is love. Maybe we can help people express it even
when they are no longer here to say it.