Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from John P. Weiss.
When I was thirteen years old, my father suffered a heart attack in front of me and my mother. We were in the living room watching television and he said he didn’t feel well.
Emergency responders were called, followed by several intense hours at the hospital. Thankfully, Dad recovered, but not my boyhood sense of immortality. Life, I quickly learned, can change in an instant.
Fast forward 27 years and I’m holding my father’s hand in a dementia care facility. He is unconscious. The hospice nurse tells me that hearing is often the last sense to go. So I tell my father that I love him. That everyone in our family is fine. That if he’s tired, to rest.
He slipped away peacefully an hour later.
I made all the arrangements for my mother. We held a small memorial for family and friends. We reminisced, laughed, cried, and said our goodbyes.
The next day I drove to my parent’s house. My mother wanted to downsize her home and move closer to me, my wife, and son.
Dad was a packrat. The garage was filled to the gills, and the rest of the house was equally loaded with a lifetime of possessions. If Dad had met Marie Kondo, he’d have told her that all his stuff brings him joy.
Unfortunately, most of Dad’s stuff didn’t bring me joy. It took weeks of hard work to simplify, declutter, and unload everything. I found a consignment business that took most of the large furniture pieces. I gave away many of Dad’s tools and garage items. There were countless trips to the Goodwill and the local dump.
At the time, I was unfamiliar with minimalism, but the experience left a big impression. I knew I wanted a simpler, less cluttered life.
Don’t leave this burden to them
Margareta Magnusson published a slender book in 2018 titled “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning.” Magnusson’s first encounter with
It’s an enormous task to declutter and organize after the death of a parent or loved one. As Magnusson points out, young families today lead busy lives. She notes:
“Do not ever imagine that anyone will wish—or be able—to schedule time off to take care of what you didn’t bother to take care of yourself. No matter how much they love you, don’t leave this burden to them.”
Swedish death cleaning, Magnusson points out, is as much (or more) for you as for the people who come after. Doing so gives you the chance to find meaning and memory in your things. You’ll also feel a sense of lightness and peace.
If you don’t remember why a possession has meaning or why you kept it, it will be easier to part with. Sentimental items, letters, and photographs are often the hardest to deal with. Fortunately, they can be organized into albums or digitized.
The old barber shop
I went through hundreds of old photos after my father died. I tossed duplicates and pictures of people unfamiliar to my mother and I. The rest were reduced down to one small box, which we plan to digitize into a computer file. It can then be used with a digital photo frame, to enjoy all the pictures as they cycle through.
One of the photos I found in my Dad’s stuff was of the old, vintage barber shop in town where he got his hair cut. Dad used to take me there when I was a kid.
Dad’s barber was named Pat. He was a slender, short man and his small shop was always neat and tidy. Opening the door to his shop, you’d hear the dangling bell as it clanked against the glass.
Inside, there were three of those old barber chairs. You know, the ones with puffy seats, armrests, and those big, metal foot pedals.
Pat had combs suspended in jars filled with mystery blue liquid. There were various electric clippers, hot towels, a small TV (with the game on), and various sports magazines strewn about the waiting area.
After a haircut, Pat would liberally powder your face with a big, soft brush. Then, for the kids, he’d hand out Bazooka Joe bubble gum.
I thought Pat’s barber shop was cool, but I wasn’t old enough to appreciate what my Dad admired most about Pat.
The capacity to enjoy less
Dad once told me that Pat was the most down to earth, authentic, wise, well-adjusted man he knew. Pat loved people and conversation, and his work was the perfect forum for both.
My father was an administrative law judge, and his work was complicated and stressful. In fact, it’s what led to my Dad’s heart attack. Several other judges that Dad worked with suffered heart attacks as well.
Dad admired Pat because he led a simple, uncomplicated life. Even Pat’s home (where my father visited him once to help on a legal matter) was a small, neat, tidy house.
According to my Dad, Pat was far happier than most of the men Dad worked with. Pat had crafted a simple, uncomplicated life.
Despite Dad’s tendency to hoard stuff, he knew simplicity was a virtue. He once told me, “Do we own our things, or do our things own us?”
Perhaps Socrates, who my father admired, said it best:
“The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less.”
Roses in our winter
What Swedish death cleaning taught me about life is that relationships and experiences are what matter, not the stuff we fill our homes and lives with.
Yes, some possessions enrich our lives, but the sweetest memories come from experiences with loved ones and friends.
As we approach the twilight of our lives, memories become important companions. As the author George Will once wrote:
“Memories are roses in our winter.”
Don’t wait until you are old and tired to simplify your life. Swedish death cleaning is not consigned to the elderly.
We can declutter and embrace minimalism at any age. Doing so will unburden you, allow more time for loved ones, and create an abundance of memories to cherish for a lifetime.
***
John P. Weiss is a fine artist, writer, and retired police chief. He blogs at JohnPWeiss.com about living a more artful life.
Brenda King says
I used to keep a spotless home, with a husband and two children constantly messing it up. I felt like I was on a treadmill, with never an end in sight! After I retired from my job as an RN, ‘ decided I would retire at deep house keeping too. So, for a few yrs. I kept the laundry, dishes and basic picking up done. Unfortunately, the piles continued to grow. Every cabinet, drawer, and closet needed to be cleaned and minimized. I’d promised I wouldn’t take care of it until my husband, also retired, helped! But the disorganization and messes are outlasting my stubbornness. ‘ Can’t take the mess any more, so will attack one room at a time, until they’re all cleaned up! I’ve felt many of the things many others have written about, and don’t want to leave a back breaking job for anyone else either! Thanks for the reminder!
Vanessa says
We move fairly often so do this type of cleaning through the normal course of packing up and re-settling. I met a man from Montana and described to him how often we moved, three time in about 6 years, I’d said. He said in return, “Well, three moves is as good as a house fire.”
Walter Paul Bebirian says
hi :-)
Dee says
Wonderful and thought-provoking. There’s nothing like a reminder of our own mortality to give us some perspective on what’s really important.
No wonder that in our consumerist society death and even the idea of aging is often only seen in horror movies..
Stacy says
Since my grandparents are still living, I walked through their house with them and asked them to show me anything that had family history value. I took pictures of the items and complied them into a document with the family stories next to each item. I then asked them to show me anything they didn’t want to end up at a thrift store (antiques, jewelry, etc). After adding those to the document, we gave it to my parents, aunts, and uncles. My mom also gave a copy to my grandparents estate lawyer who wished more people would do that. Fortunately, my grandparents have now decided to give the important stuff away while they are still living.
Catherine Barwick says
As parents, we like to keep stuff that we think our kids will want after we are gone. Ask your children now what they would want after you are no longer here. You may get surprising answers. Ever since my daughter was a child, I have asked her that question. And I have always received the same answer. “All I want is you, Mama”. She is now 21 and away from home. Knowing that she does not want any of my stuff makes it easier for me to part with the few things I do own. I have long ago forgone buying any more non-essentials and now restrict my purchases to food, clothing and travel. My sisters and I have had to clean out our (long-departed) parent’s home. The hardest part was finding all the unused gifts I had given them over the years. They didn’t need the gifts. They needed ME and my TIME. It was hard lesson to learn but it has changed my life forever. Now I give my daughter my time- the most precious gift of all.
Kay says
My enormous problem is the paper blizzard in my small apartment. I have a file cabinet filled with “important paperwork.” How can I determine what I can shred and/or toss without later regret? I’d be embarrassed to leave this mess for anybody else..and where do I start?
It’s becoming an overwhelming task & I don’t know how or where to begin! Any recommendations?
Connie J Sass says
Kay,
OHMYGAWSH!
I can relate to the paperwork “blizzard”. THIS is the hardest part for me too. I have a home based business, and I get so much mail on a daily basis, just from my business, & add to that, Identity theft?
I was really tackeling it. Then Identity theft took over my life.
It’s like a Semi full of paper came & dumped the entire contents in my home.
It feels like it will never end?
All we can do is just put one foot in front of the other, & keep on, keeping on, & on, & on…
It is so time consuming, & time is so precious.
My motto;
⚘WE DO WHAT WE MUST⚘
It is overwhelming, at best.
I’ll be cheering you on⚘?⚘
This too, shall pass. Remember to keep breathing, (I find that I’m not breathing)
Just do the best you can. If you have anybody who offers to help, accept it! That has been impossible for me to do, unfortunately!
“PRIDE” stops me from accepting help.
Baby steps, & be sure to give yourself a small reward. A tube of lipstick, doesn’t have to be much, as we don’t need more “stuff”
Celebrate “Tiny Triumphs”?
I’m hoping somebody will give you answers, as I have the same questions that you do⚘
All my best, I’ll be watching from here⚘?⚘Please post your progress, so I, “WE”, can celebrate with you⚘
We CAN do this?This forum is the best, as so many offer ideas, & solutions!
Remember this is a process, not an event⚘
Good luck, & please share what “clicks”
I’m sending you my very best wishes for all things good & kind⚘.
CJS?
Caroline says
A scanner (or scanning service) is your friend. Keep the physical copies of important documents (vital documents such as birth/death certificates, marriage license, SS card, passport, etc ) and scan the rest.
Keep them on a flash drive (or on the cloud) in folders and categorize them (school records, bills, work stuff, etc) and break down the categories more into folders if needed (is break down the bills by category– ie phone, electric, etc). There are free apps available that convert your phone to a scanner.
After they’re scanned, shred them (borrow a shredder or use a shredding service if necessary).
Ann C says
You can google what important papers need to be kept and for how long. After my parents were gone seven years I disposed of all their documents except birth, death, military and marriage papers. I did the same for my husband’s. Now it’s just me and I just purchased a book titled: Peace of Mind Planner. I’m filling it out for my daughter to have when I pass.
Wendy says
“Paper” seems to be a common issue for many. My rule for it is when it comes into the house, I open it, and it immediately either gets filed(and by this I mean in a filing cabinet…not on the kitchen table), gets paid, or goes in the trash or is shredded immediately. If I “will look at it later” like coupons, flyers, IF I haven’t looked at it by day 2 I don’t even bother and just throw it out. I see so many people with stacks of paper on tables, shoved in drawers, etc. I see them go through the WHOLE stack daily because they can’t remember what is in it and are worried they may throw something important away. I always think to myself I wonder how much time they waste sorting and resorting those piles. JUST throw it out!! lol
Roy Reichle says
My father just passed away on June 9th, and the most difficult task was sorting through all of his belongings. Fortunately, we had done a large part of it the previous fall, but it was still a huge task.
There were so many things where, for one, it was obvious that he had not looked at in years. There were pictures that had not seen the light of day in decades. So much of what he owned just sat in what can only be accurately termed as storage.
As I went through my father’s things, I felt ruthless and unfeeling as I threw away item after item. Even if they were in storage, they meant something to him, but to me–they were nothing but something I would have to store. It did feel good to give much of his clothing and furnishings to charitable organizations, though. At least there they would provide some good. Nevertheless, I still felt a pang of remorse as each trash bag clanged into the bottom of the dumpster.
I spent 20 years in the Air Force, and I moved relatively often, so I have never been one to keep much stuff. However, since I am out of the service now and not moving from place to place, I have begun to collect things, but lately I’ve begun being ruthless again and throwing things out. Now, after my father’s passing, the need to shed the layers of stuff is much stronger.
Rosemary says
I died on September 5, 2018 and had no vital signs for more than ten minutes. I didn’t want to return to this life but was told (by an angel) that I must. After being discharged from the hospital several days later, I began selling off and donating all of my worldly possessions. It worried my friends because I got rid of almost everything.
I called it the “I’m not dead yet” estate sale and it was amazingly easy because, after all, I’d been ready to advance to heaven and leave it ALL behind!
After several months, I’d sold off all my furniture, family heirlooms, my new car, my belongings and then it was time to sell my house.
I’m now living in the spare bedroom of a family member who was recently widowed and he’s very grateful for the companionship.
Honestly, dying was the best thing that ever happened to me for many reasons but principally it gave me permission to find to release the earth weights, and find perfect peace in a simplified lifestyle.
Laura says
Thank you for sharing this.
Diane says
Rosemary, thank you for sharing your death experience – it touched me, I even read it to my husband. Nothing to do with minimalism but comforting to know heaven is as beautiful as we always hear. I lost my only child in 2007.
Eric Owens says
Good lessons you learned in a difficult time. I know my dad and his siblings dealt with a lot of stress figuring out what to do with my grandma’s house and belongings when she passed. And they also dealt with a separate legal matter that arose from my late grandfather’s previous marriage. Seeing and hearing what other people have gone through, I think about minimizing more so those close to me don’t have to potentially go through the same stress.