“Mom, may I pour you a drink?” we’d ask my Irish mother-in-law, nicknamed Midge.

“Is the Pope a Catholic?” she’d answer every time, with a toothy grin.

“How’ve you been, Mom?” we’d inquire during telephone calls.

“Busier than a one-armed wallpaper hanger,” Midge often responded without regard for political correctness.

“Mom, you don’t need to tidy up for us,” we might tell her.

“Oh, I won’t. There’re only two things in life I need to do -- that’s die and pay taxes,” she’d quip without fail.

Last month, at the age of 91, my mother-in-law passed away peacefully after a long, rich life filled with love, laughter, family and friends.

During Midge’s final days, my own aging father, Durwood, was having serious health issues. While my husband flew to Maryland to help make arrangements for his mother’s funeral, I was flying to North Carolina, to help my father after emergency surgery.

When it rains, it pours.

The dual experiences, although hectic, stressful and sometimes sad, provided a valuable comparison that has changed my perspective on preparing for our future.

Thanks to her late husband’s retirement savings, Midge was able to move into a nice “independent senior living” facility after the family home became impractical and she needed nursing care. She had a two-bedroom apartment at the facility with her own furniture, family memorabilia, meal services, cleaning, nurse visits and an outside patio.

When her dementia increased, she moved into a smaller apartment with a higher level of care, but Midge still had her cat, Linus, to make her feel content. In that final month, she was placed on hospice, and comfortably passed in her sleep after visits from family.

“Gosh darn it, Midge! What took you so long?” we joked that my father-in-law exclaimed upon seeing his wife’s arrival in Heaven.

Although a substantial amount of my mother-in-law’s financial resources were spent on care at the facility, her estate provided funding for a beautiful funeral and lively reception (Midge loved a good party) with enough left for a small inheritance to pass to her five adult children.

Durwood, on the other hand, entered his golden years in the red.

When I flew to North Carolina to help after his surgery, I found out that his serious health issue was only part of his crisis. While he lay in rehab after surgery, I discovered that he’d stopped paying his mortgage, utilities and creditors, and had racked up more than $500 in bounced check and late fees. His house, which was on the market, was in early foreclosure, his insurance policies had lapsed, his automobile registration was revoked and his water was about to be turned off.

Durwood had no retirement savings. He’d lost his money in the market crash of 2008 and never told anyone, until now.

For several stressful weeks, I helped my father through the crisis, getting his bills paid and home aid help through social services. Although he shouldn’t currently live at home due to his health, he has no choice because he has no money to live anywhere else.

These experiences have motivated my husband and me to update the plan for our future.

Our only will was written by the base JAG officer in the ‘90s just before my husband went on deployment, and before our third child was born. Needless to say, it’s outdated. It states that my mother, who is now 82, will take custody of our children, who are now adults. With no debt-free assets to speak of, our main concern was providing for our kids in the event that we were gone.

Twenty-five years later, our main concern is providing for ourselves in our old age. No one wants to be a burden when they get old. Besides, many, like Durwood and Midge, need skilled nursing care that their adult children can’t practically provide. We need a financial plan that anticipates the possibility of long-term nursing care just in case that’s needed one day.

My mother-in-law had it right. There aren’t too many things in life we need to worry about other than death and taxes, and never turn down a good cocktail.

Read more at themeatandpotatoesoflife.com and in Lisa’s book, “The Meat and Potatoes of Life: My True Lit Com.” Email: meatandpotatoesoflife@gmail.com