Why Collecting Memories May Matter More Than Passing Down Wealth

For decades, I approached retirement planning with a single objective: accumulate enough resources to leave my sons a substantial inheritance. The assumption felt natural—a parent’s duty. But a single book challenged everything I thought I knew about money, legacy, and what truly matters when we’re no longer here.

The Paradigm Shift: When Money Becomes a Tool for Living

I discovered Die with Zero by Bill Perkins almost by accident. The title was provocative enough to grab my attention, but the core message transformed how I think about the nest egg I’ve spent a lifetime building. Perkins argues something radical: money isn’t a scoreboard where you win by having the most at the end. Instead, it’s a tool—specifically, a tool for creating experiences and memories.

The concept that stuck with me most was “memory dividends.” Perkins emphasizes that meaningful experiences don’t expire when we spend the money on them. Instead, they continue paying us back through memories that last a lifetime. A vacation you took ten years ago still brings joy. A meal shared with loved ones still warms your heart. The money spent creates something permanent, while the account balance only provides temporary peace of mind.

I’m not adopting every suggestion in the book, but I’m selecting what resonates with our situation. Critically, my husband and I have decided to withdraw more from our retirement account than originally planned. We won’t be wealthy, but we’ll be comfortable enough to actually enjoy our senior years rather than just survive them. Intellectually and emotionally, this feels like the right decision.

What Family Really Needs: The Truth Beyond Financial Inheritance

My journey to this realization wasn’t mine alone. When I mentioned the book to my sons, both surprised me with their response: they’d rather we leave them nothing or close to it. They’re not being modest. Both are well-educated, financially stable, and working on their own retirement security. More importantly, they made clear that parental sacrifice is the last thing they want.

The sentiment echoed from their spouses. Our daughters-in-law have repeatedly stressed how important it is to them that we actually spend our money and enjoy life as we age. They’re not depending on an inheritance; they’re taking care of their own futures.

What struck me most? The inheritance dream wasn’t theirs. It was mine. I’d projected my own values and worries onto them, creating an obligation they never asked for. Letting go of that expectation turned out to be liberating—not just for us, but for our entire family dynamic.

Building a Legacy Through Experiences, Not Just Accounts

Years of financial discipline taught me to think of money left behind as a final love letter. Every dollar preserved felt like a tangible expression of how much we valued our children. I imagined them thinking of us every time they accessed that inheritance—a permanent reminder of our love.

But that logic began to crumble under simple questioning: If we hadn’t earned enough to build this account, would our children love us less? If we lost every penny tomorrow, would they doubt our devotion? The answer to both is definitively no.

No amount of money can communicate love. Only presence can. Only time can. Only the decision to show up and engage with life—and with them—while we’re still here can truly convey what we feel. That’s a message money simply cannot deliver, no matter how substantial the sum.

Collecting Moments That Matter More Than Numbers

The inheritance that actually matters isn’t measured in dollars. It’s measured in the stories we create together, the inside jokes that make us laugh years later, the Sunday dinners where we’re genuinely present rather than stressed about market returns. These are the collecting memories that outlast any financial portfolio.

Our shift in thinking isn’t about being reckless with resources we’ve worked hard to accumulate. It’s about recognizing that the purpose of those resources has always been to support a life well-lived. Denying ourselves experiences to leave more behind is like saving the wine for a celebration that never comes.

The real legacy we can leave our children is the knowledge that we believed life was worth living fully. That we didn’t wait for some distant retirement that never quite felt “ready.” That we loved them enough to show them, through our actions, what it means to live with intention and joy.

Sometimes the most generous inheritance is simply this: permission—for ourselves and for them—to actually enjoy the time we have.