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Ed. note: This is the latest installment in a series of posts on motherhood in the legal profession, in partnership with our friends at MothersEsquire. Welcome Heather A. Printz back to our pages. Click here if you’d like to donate to MothersEsquire.
Current discussion would have you believe that AI and DIY services will soon replace a variety of professions, including that of attorneys. In my experience, even if our legal work could be replaced, attorneys are more than simple document preparers. Estate planning attorneys shepherd clients through an often emotional planning journey and provide the reassurance that if they become incapacitated or when they pass on, everything they have left in this world will be handled with care. Every single person deserves to be treated with that dignity and kindness, and until AI can provide it, attorneys will continue to counsel from the heart.
A few months ago, a woman contacted me about a Durable Financial Power of Attorney for her family member. My business model is such that I travel to my clients — whenever, wherever. I am the Shakira of estate planning in Pennsylvania.
I met this particular PC in the care facility where she was recently placed after a series of unfortunate events following an outpatient procedure. I met a wisp of a woman with a personality that was larger than life. We were laughing and cracking jokes for the better part of an hour. My PC signed the retainer agreement, and we agreed I would return the following week with the document prepared for signature.
Over the weekend, she was hospitalized and suffered complete delirium. The doctor was not sure she would regain capacity so signing was on hold indefinitely. The situation was dire and the family was considering hospice. Then about midway through the following week, I received a call from my client’s family member — my client was completely lucid, would I please rush over with the paperwork?
I have seen enough to know that sudden lucidity means death is often near, but I am an eternal optimist … so away we go. I contacted the doctor and we agreed to meet at noon at the patient’s bedside. The doctor confirmed my client had improved significantly, but he wanted to wait an additional day to give consent. The following day, I returned to the hospital and we agreed she had sufficient capacity. My client was in the hospital bed talking about cheeseburgers with her neighbor who had come to visit. After debating whether we’d get in trouble for sneaking one in for her, we got started with the documents. My client was having trouble sitting up as she had lost significant mobility and strength in the week she was virtually comatose. By the time we got her up and situated, she was in tears with frustration. When she was finally able to hold the pen, she began to sign her name but the ink did not flow as she could not press hard enough on the paper. Not wanting to embarrass her, I said, “Oh, the pen is out of ink, I am so sorry!” and I handed her a pink marker I had in my bag. The marker provided just the right flow so my client could sign the document without frustration or embarrassment.
I left the hospital full of emotion. My client put her faith in me, I delivered for her and her family and preserved her dignity. It’s not earth-shattering. It’s not as heart-pounding as litigation. It was just an ordinary Wednesday. But in five-plus years of practicing law, I am not sure I have ever been prouder of my work.
A few weeks later, a local friend and colleague contacted me on a Saturday and asked if I would supervise the signing of a codicil for his client in a rehabilitation facility the following Monday. I arrived at the client’s room to find him sitting up in bed watching Westerns. I introduced myself but he had difficulty responding due to his physical condition. The nurse provided some acute care and when he was able, I conducted the signing ceremony. During the signing of the documents, he pointed to his water container. I stopped and held it for him so he could take a few sips before returning to the task at hand. A few hours later, I learned he had passed away. My colleague felt we had given his client peace of mind so he could pass without regrets, and we paused to reflect on the work we do. I was very much in my feelings about the fact that, apart from his care team, we were the last people with whom he interacted. However fleeting that encounter, it was among his last. It’s sobering to think about how we fit into someone’s final days, and how we get to make sure a client’s most final wishes are respected.
There is a certain gravitas that this field requires, and I’m not sure that sensitivity can be replaced by technology. People talk about how ChatGPT and LegalZoom will be the death (no pun intended) of estate planning attorneys, but the level of service we provide can’t be engineered or replicated. In addition to the fact that a user would have to be learned enough to ask AI the proper questions and understand the nuance of the answers to generate a passable estate planning document, with the assurance that advice is correct, estate planning attorneys provide an irreplaceable, truly humanitarian service. We are confidants, advisors, and compassionate humans who tailor estate plans to each individual’s situation. Clients come to us afraid — of dying, of attorneys, of their families getting left to pick up the pieces or, worse, of their families making a mess — and place their trust in us to help them through this incredibly emotional thing. Then we make sure it gets executed, come what may.
In life, there are so many opportunities to make a difference, and while AI absolutely has a place in the future, I’m not sure why we would want to outsource giving a fellow human that modicum of peace and comfort. How lucky we are to get to do that. Because estate planning is a multifaceted endeavor, I think we’re safe, at least for a little while, but when the robots come to take over the world, my pink marker and I will be there at the ready.
Heather A. Printz is an estate planning, probate, and real estate attorney at Printz Law in the Lehigh Valley area of PA. Outside work, Heather volunteers at Macungie Memorial Park including on the Das Awkscht Fescht committee and is a Judge of Elections for Lehigh County. She enjoys adventures with her friends and family, anything outdoors, all things pink, and rooting for Philly sports.