Look, nobody wants to talk about what happens to their stuff when they’re gone. Its one of those conversations we keep pushing to next week, next month, next year. But here’s the thing – I just watched my neighbor Sarah spend three months sorting through her mom’s house, and it was brutal.
Not just emotionally brutal (though that part was rough too). I’m talking about the sheer physical reality of dealing with 40 years worth of accumulated life. Every drawer was a time capsule. Every closet held decades of “might need this someday” items. And dont even get me started on the garage. When things got really overwhelming, she ended up calling in professionals – The Junkman Deceased Estates & Hoarder Clean Ups helped her tackle the impossible task of sorting through it all.
The crazy part? Her mom wasnt even a hoarder. Just a regular person who lived a regular life and kept regular things. But multiply “regular” by four decades and suddenly you’re looking at a mountain of decisions that nobody’s prepared to make.
The Stuff We Leave Behind
Here’s what really gets me. We spend our whole lives collecting things that tell our story. That ceramic bowl from the trip to Italy. The jacket that doesn’t fit anymore but reminds us of better times. Books we swear we’ll read again. Tools for projects we never quite started.
Then one day, someone else has to figure out what it all meant. What to keep. What to toss. What might be worth something to somebody somewhere.
Sarah found herself paralyzed by simple decisions. Her mom’s recipe cards – keep them all? Just the ones with notes in the margins? The wedding china nobody uses anymore but feels too important to donate? Every single item became a negotiation between memory and practicality.
Why We Need to Talk About This Now
I know what you’re thinking. This is depressing, Bryce. Why are you bumming us out on a Tuesday?
Because watching Sarah go through this made me realize something. The kindest thing we can do for the people we love is to start making some of these decisions ourselves. Right now. While we can still tell the stories behind our stuff.
Think about it. Wouldn’t you rather be the one deciding which of your collections actually matter? Which items tell your story best? Which things would genuinely help your kids or bring joy to a stranger?
Starting Small (Because Everything Feels Big)
You don’t have to tackle the whole house this weekend. But maybe you could start with one drawer. One shelf. One box in the attic.
Ask yourself:
• Would anyone in my family actually want this?
• Does this item represent something important about my life?
• Am I keeping this out of guilt, obligation, or actual attachment?
• If I saw this in a store today, would I buy it?
The swedish have this concept called döstädning – death cleaning. Sounds morbid, but its really about gradually simplifying your life so others don’t have to. Its not about getting rid of everything. Its about being intentional with what you keep.
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The Unexpected Freedom
Heres the plot twist nobody tells you about. When you start going through your stuff with this mindset, something weird happens. You feel lighter. Not just because theres less clutter, but because you’re actively choosing what parts of your story matter most.
My friend Tom started doing this after his dad passed. He said clearing out his dad’s house was like archaeology – digging through layers of a life lived. Now Tom goes through his own stuff regularly. “I want my kids to find treasures, not just tasks,” he told me.
He keeps the guitar he played in college. The watch his father gave him. The photo albums that actually get looked at. But the boxes of old cables, the clothes that haven’t fit in a decade, the duplicate kitchen gadgets – those are finding new homes now, while he can enjoy the process of letting go.
The Real Conversation We Need to Have
Beyond the stuff, there’s a bigger conversation here. Its about how we want to be remembered. What legacy we’re actually leaving versus the one we think we’re leaving.
Sometimes the greatest gift isnt leaving behind more – its leaving behind less, but with more meaning. A carefully chosen collection that says “this is who I was” instead of “this is everything I couldn’t throw away.”
So maybe this weekend, open that junk drawer. Start that conversation with your family. Write a note about why that weird painting in the hallway actually matters to you.
Because someday, someone who loves you is going to stand in your space, holding your things, trying to piece together your story. You can make that day a little easier for them. And surprisingly, you might make today a little easier for yourself too.
