This winter has been a season of sorting. A time of gathering and picking through items, weighing their usefulness, condition, necessity, and then piling them to keep, or donate or to discard. Small kitchen appliances, articles of clothing, papers, decor, dishes, so many things to sort. As I handle each, I survey it and ask,  “is it as valuable as the space it keeps in my home?”  It’s a daunting task. But seeing bare space in a cupboard or drawer gives me so much satisfaction.  I read a few articles about “Swedish Death Cleaning”. Despite its ominous name, it’s just a practice of sorting and  weeding out one’s belongings to ease the burden on your children or carers when you become unable to perform that task, yourself.    I’m slowly coming to the realization, that my “treasures” are not always treasured by my progeny.  Cutesy clutter may not be met with the same enthusiasm as I had while collecting it. Therefore, distribution to people who will treasure your clutter should happen sooner, rather than later. It should be given to those who do find value in it. One’s loyalty to you as a human or family member, isn’t transferred to your stuff at the time of death. More than likely…. those items go to them with a certain amount of guilt, dread and resentment because of the impossibility of finding room for all of it.  That’s worth remembering.

The sorting is anxious at first, but the memories are more valuable than the object. Taking a photo to remind oneself may be enough.  Beyond that, the clutter becomes an object of stress as opposed to joy.

The bare spot in the drawer, so I don’t have to stuff my items in messily brings me greater satisfaction. Because a spot is empty does not mean my life is empty. When we die, there would never be enough room to hold each of our treasured memories…so only the most precious will be with us till the end. The sorting helps us to remember the most precious.