420. A birthdate. A deed. Chemotherapy.

4/20 means different things to different people.

What it means to thousands of people: A day to relax — more so than the usual. Smoke it. Eat it. Wake and bake. UberEats. No judgment.  Just facts.

What it meant to one estate planner: Nothing. It was someone's birthdate on a questionnaire.

What it meant for one client: Everything. His wife's birthdate. The date he first recorded the deed to their family home.

Decades of long commutes. Office politics. A bad back. Sciatica. A boss with a tenuous relationship with reality. Decades of devotion and love. To his wife. His family. Their future.

Twenty-five years later — weakened by twelve weeks of chemotherapy — he insisted on doing it again.

Physically, much weaker. Emotionally, stronger. Spiritually, more resilient.

At the signing, I handed her a gift card with a note:

4/20. Your birthday. Years ago, [he] recorded the house in your names. He insisted on doing it himself then. Today, he still insists. Now I know why. Happy Birthday.

He didn't fund the trust with money. He funded it with sacrifice. Love. Every ounce of energy he had left.

The irony? He will need cannabis to regain his appetite and his strength. The same plant that helps the world relax will help him survive.

Did you fund your living trust ?