Like many mothers, I leave for work a few moments after the school bus picks up my youngest. I commute by train, and my daily ride is spent among a marvelous community of working moms. Of course, we share notes. In between the skinny on teachers and who’s misbehaving at the school-play rehearsal, I’ve been informally polling the moms about their wills. Our community was touched by Sept. 11, and continuing to commute has put us all in touch with our mortality. Despite that unhappy fact, several mothers admitted that while they always meant to write a will, they hadn’t managed to do so.

This didn’t completely surprise me. Most Americans don’t have wills. But the reason these women hadn’t written a testament set me back. People weren’t avoiding the difficult issues of how much money they really had (or hadn’t) or where it should go. But they couldn’t get past one sticking point: who would be their children’s guardian.

Certainly, this was the hardest decision for me when I wrote my will. Although I delegate a certain amount of childrearing every day—after all, my children go to school, spend time with sitters and don’t hesitate to attend slumber parties—the idea of naming a substitute parent was chilling. Who, after all, could love my children exactly the way my husband and I do? Who could infuse them with our values, our standards, our twisted sense of humor? As I ran through the possibilities with my husband, each one seemed to require too much compromise.

The truth is, if you are a parent there is never a perfect permanent substitute for you. There’s only sloppy seconds, and the hope that someone else can be good enough, loving enough, and not too disruptive. And here’s another truth: Finding an ideal replacement for yourself is not the point. There is no perfect answer to death. But as an estate-planning specialist once told me, if parents have to go off and die, it’s best that the family knows whose job it is to take the kids home from the funeral.

It was in that spirit that my husband and I chose a guardian, a backup guardian, and a backup-backup for my kids. They’re no substitute for us, but they love the children and would do their best to raise them. Chances are, they’ll never have to take on the job. And if one of them gets sick, moves to India or otherwise changes his or her life, I can always name someone else.

Although I hesitated to share the details of my arrangements with my kids, when they found out that I had a will, they wanted to know the details. My 10-year-old in particular grilled me about what would happen to her if I died. I told her very matter-of-factly that she’d probably never need to use my plans; but in case I died, she would live with her father; and if that wasn’t possible, with her step-dad, her grandparents or her aunt and uncle.

I have to admit, I thought she’d be upset by the very concept of guardianship, but she wasn’t. Like so many children, she was much tougher than her parent gave her credit for. She asked me why I had chosen those people. When I responded that I had chosen people who loved her and were in good health, with the time and resources to care for her, she nodded. "Good," she said, and went back to her breakfast. And she was right.

For Sound Money, I'm Marion Asnes.