I’m Terri Izard, Founder of Aging Agendas.

I’m here to help with the burden that comes with end-of-life care and planning.

Death is the ultimate human experience. 

So why does something universal feel so lonely?

Most of us will care for an elderly loved one at some point...and all of us will age.

Yet, we don’t learn about this in school. We don’t talk to our friends about it. We either talk to our pastors, our lawyers, or no one.

This is a safe place to have those conversations and get some support.

Everyone here in the Aging Agendas community is...  

HUMAN

This journey is universal. It’s messy – it’s every sensation at once. It’s gut-churning grief, helplessness, and panic. It’s also hope, connection, and brief flutters of joy along the way. And we’re here for all of it.

HUMBLE

Our time is not so valuable that we can’t stop to explain things until they make sense. At the end of the day, we know you’re just trying to get through a traumatic situation relatively intact…we’ve been there too.

HEARTFELT

We take all of this personally. It’s not enough to give you the information…we want a genuine conversation. We’ll be there when your heart is broken. We’ll be there for the ends, and for the new beginnings. 

Be Like My Daddy

My father loved the Boy Scout motto: "Always be prepared." When he got his cancer diagnosis, he didn’t tell anyone, he hoped for the best, but he also began preparing for the worst. He did things around the house. He decluttered his tools and his belongings. He sold items that he didn't need anymore and busied himself with the file cabinets in the house. Drawer after drawer, he went through files and shredded papers.

Unbeknownst to us, he made trips to the local funeral home. He prepaid his funeral! He selected his casket, he selected his final resting place in the cemetery and even made future arrangements for the possibility of my Mom's passing.

He gathered all the important legal documents that Mom would need at his passing. He got his will, living will, living trust and social security card, his veterans' benefits, birth certificate, marriage certificate, discharge papers, life insurance policies and pension benefits. He placed all of these papers in the top drawer of the file cabinet – so easy to find. Everything was ready.

When he passed, we dreaded the arrangements. But, because of the thoughtfulness of my father, we had only a few minor decisions to make. He had everything figured out: his casket, his ceremony, his entombment. We made a few changes, and asked our pastor to officiate. We wrote the obituary and newspaper article, and we found tokens and mementos to share at his service. 

His selfless preparation was his last, loving act for his family – for me. I tear up every time I tell this story, because he made this shattering time smooth. 

I want everyone to have that kind of experience. He is my gold standard.

WHO is STU?

This is Stickman Stu. He's a cheery little fellow.

I mentioned earlier that my sweetie, Brian, traveled a lot when the kids were young. He spent half of almost every week away from home. But he always found ways to connect with us while he was gone, and one of those ways was Stickman Stu. Brian would create comic strips with Stu on our calendars – reenacting fun memories, activities, and conversations we’d had while he was home. So, meet Stu. Now you can fall in love with him like we did.