Aging is something we learn from family, our community and our culture.

Sam, I’ll call him, is what can only be described as an 87-year-old curmudgeon. As a widower suffering from congestive heart failure, mostly homebound due to his fatigue and need for oxygen, he is bitter about his lot in life.

Sam’s son and daughter bear his wrath as he rails about the unfairness of getting older and how his life is not worth living. His children focus their energies on managing his illness. Any efforts on their part to add value to Sam’s life via grandchild visits or trips out to eat are met with indifference.

Sam may not know it, but he is teaching his family (children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren), as well as his remaining friends and neighbors, what aging is like.

My husband is a finance guy, a CPA with a master’s in taxation. He is, by all accounts, a meticulous, detail-oriented individual.

It’s nice to have one of those in a family. At least one of us should be reading the dishwasher manual when it malfunctions, checking a contract’s fine print before signing and making sure the stove is turned off before leaving the house.

Most recently, my husband won kudos from my mother when he found an error in the Required Minimum Distribution from her 401(k) while calculating her taxes. My mother’s investment advisor, who should have caught the error, was embarrassed and apologized.

Sometimes paying attention to detail can reap financial rewards.