Cutting-edge Daily Life of Elderly #8 "Longevity Savings"

 The other day, I was shocked to find a name in the obituary posted on the community bulletin board: It was a former classmate of mine in junior high school. It’s got to be some kind of mistake. To double-check, I hurriedly contacted a friend of mine who had gone to the same high school as him.

It really was him, the president of the student association back then. He had died of illness. I hadn’t seen him for over 40 years since graduation, and we weren’t particularly close friends. But I can still remember him, a nice guy always with a smile on his face.

This experience has made me realize, well, I’m old enough to experience death of my classmates.

 

In an episode of a TV drama now on air, the main character’s mother was doing “Nagaiki Chokin,” or longevity savings.

The mother was a big fan of Rokusuke Ei, a popular actor and writer who had suggested in one of his books that older people could pool money and save it together. Inspired by this idea, the mother did just that with a group of female friends of her age.

There were 38 members in the group, each putting 10,000 yen in their joint account every year.

But the money is not to be spent on traveling or dining.

It was designed not to be spent.

If each member contributes 10,000 yen every year, it means 380,000 yen in one year, 3.8 million yen in 10 years, 7.6 million yen in 20 years, and over 10 million yen in 30 years saved in the account.

Along the way, the group will gradually become smaller as members pass away. And the last remaining member, the survivor, can take all the money. The group now has 34 members, who are in their 80s.

“I can’t die. No way I’m going to die! Just a simple thought of not wanting to die before others. This is important. Last month, I saw the members at a funeral. They looked like, ‘One down, lucky me!’ When you get old, you would be surrounded by sadness like, ‘Oh no… that person has passed away too. How depressing.’ But we’re different. One down, no problem!”

The idea is to help people keep living, no matter what, with the 10 million yen as an incentive.

What a unique and a bit dark idea it is, vividly reflecting Mr. Ei’s personality.

 

The idea of longevity savings has drown divided reactions.. I remember seeing many positive comments, saying it’s funky and cool.

Personally, I find it interesting but wouldn’t try it.

 

First of all, we cannot open a joint account here in Japan. So the first fight could be about who should be the account holder. Also, who will be managing the bank book? What if the holder dies before other members, develops dementia, or becomes seriously ill? What will happen if the account is frozen? How will we handle taxes?

Besides all these practical questions, the idea of “not spending” is simply not for me.

 

Years ago, I took a kimono dressing course when I was in my 30s. After completing the course, my classmates and I formed a group and held independent practice sessions twice a month. In this group, we decided to pool some money by chipping in the “lesson fee” every month. The pooled money was spent on members’ birthday parties, Christmas parties, beer parties, trips, as well as wedding and baby gifts.

We took turns every year as manager of the money. It was really fun, like playing house.

 

Most of all, how am I supposed to spend 10 million yen in my 80s? I wouldn’t be able to eat as much. I wouldn’t want to take a long trip. I wouldn’t be driving any more. I wouldn’t need many clothes, shoes, or bags. I wouldn’t have anyone to leave the money for.

If that’s the future waiting for me, I’d rather spend the money with people I love while we are alive. Every 10 years, we would spend the 3.8 million yen to enjoy ourselves at a fancy restaurant or hotel. We would be saving less as the group grew smaller, but we would find a way to enjoy time together with whatever the money we had.

I wouldn’t be able to eat a big dinner alone. But with my friends, I might finish everything on my plate. Maybe I would get dressed up too.

 

I received an email from a friend of mine who had attended the classmate’s funeral:

“It was sad, but I was able to meet some old friends. We’re all grown up, but as we started kidding around, it soon felt like we're back in the old days at junior high. Everyone was sweet. We’ve been through a lot and suffered a lot, mentally and physically. But they’d forgive me. That’s how I felt. Promise me you stay well. And let’s meet again. I love you.”

The message went right to my heart.

I'd like to spend time with my friends, enjoying small luxuries we couldn't afford when we were young.

If I could do that, there should be no regret whether I died first or last.

That's how I'd spend my time and money... I guess.

Written by Mamiko Kashima