How a Bit of Empathy Would Help During the Signing of Legal Documents

Accountants and financial advisors do their jobs, but may not realize the emotional weight for clients

Recently, I sat in a law office at a long conference table with my two daughters beside me. Across from us was an attorney with a stack of legal pages for me to sign. They were documents that I had spent months thinking about and discussing with her — my revocable trust, health care directive, and other papers that signaled we were talking about me without me.

Peter was doing her job efficiently, speaking her legalese to us matter-of-factly, pointing to legal sections in documents just as he had done with others many times before. He was explaining things we knew we needed to know, but truthfully, didn’t want to hear, especially when delivered passively, as if we were being given instructions for a used car that was about to die, all as a clock ticked away and was about to ding on the hour.

To her, it was routine. To us, it was sobering. My daughters were absorbing the reality that their mom’s future wishes were now contained in legal documents. I was sitting there, very much alive, listening to my own death being discussed as if I were already gone.

Difficult Conversations

Sitting and listening and glancing at my daughters, I was suddenly struck with a wave of emotions. In the months leading up to this meeting, I was dutifully reviewing legal paragraphs I barely understood and agreeing to Article this or Section that. I was determined to check the box on another To Do item instead of absorbing what it really was.

There was no acknowledgment that these are difficult things to discuss. No box of Kleenex on the table, just in case it was needed for a tear or two, something my daughter told me after she had hidden from view.

This wasn’t the first time I faced a professional advisor in a “sign here” transaction that felt insensitive. Accountants, financial advisors and realtors do their jobs, and in doing so, may not even realize their clients may be at their lowest points.

I remember when my husband’s dementia required him to sign documents transferring various accounts to me. The advisor never knew the struggles it took just to get out of the house to be on time, only to have him lock himself in the building’s men’s room, making us late for the meeting. When I sat in front of her, she had no clue about how I was feeling at that moment — a moment when I was changing a relationship with my husband, who had been my advisor, partner and confidant for years before I met her.

It’s not that professionals are cold-hearted. In fact, some may detach emotionally as a form of self-protection. As one advisor told me, “If I let myself feel the weight of every client’s discomfort, I wouldn’t last a month.”

I discussed this with Peter Hermes, an attorney I know who gets it. He is a partner at Maslon LLP in Minneapolis, specializing in trusts, estates and fiduciary litigation. Peter frequently works with families navigating sensitive legal and emotional conversations. As I described my experiences, he cautioned me to consider a middle ground in these highly personal interactions.

Then he added an important dimension. “Many times, we are meeting a client for the first time when they ask us to draft their will. We don’t know anything about them or their family dynamics. We haven’t walked in their shoes. We do our job with good intentions, which may appear perfunctory. For some, it may seem lacking in emotional sensitivity. However, they come to us to represent their best interests in a fiduciary relationship, which often creates a power imbalance regarding the topic of their mortality — a conversation the client really doesn’t want to deal with. It’s a conundrum.”

Yes, there are two perspectives on this. Being married to an attorney for over fifty years, I know law school is different than therapy school. I didn’t expect violins and a “pity party” when signing my last wishes away. But I do think quick words like, “This can be difficult.” Or, when business was completed, something like, “I hope you don’t have to visit these documents for a very long time,” would have changed the way my daughters and I felt as we silently rode the elevator down 30 floors to exit.

Training for Client-Centered Practice

The good news is that some attorneys are beginning to receive training in trauma-informed or empathy-based communication, especially those who work with older adults and families. Organizations like the National Academy of Elder Law Attorneys (NAELA) now offer resources and webinars on client-centered practice. It’s a growing area of professional development.

Peter noted a fact that, while not an excuse for insensitivity, is a reality. “We have fewer young lawyers going into estate planning. Yet, the need is greater than ever with the aging population and the number of retiring attorneys. Those in small firms who do this work have learned that it’s a volume practice requiring efficiency. There is never a lack of work, and it is work that we know requires a human touch and can’t be replaced by AI.”

We are living longer, more complex lives. Estate planning, milestone decisions and financial arrangements are becoming more sophisticated, and more emotionally layered. Professionals who learn to navigate both the practical and emotional terrain will not only serve their clients better, they’ll stand out in their fields. And as clients, we have choices.

These signing events are two-way processes. They are things that need to be done, shadowed in the reality of legacy and finality. As clients, we can ask for a moment, a tissue or any need that advocates for ourselves.

Let’s remember that “sign here” doesn’t mean “signing off.” These milestone meetings are all steps intended to give us peace of mind. At least that’s what I told myself. I’ve filed my papers in the red folder that my family knows about and doesn’t want to think about. I’m hoping they stay there for many years while I keep on living.