Simple Sustainability

• By Sky Trombly

Swedish Death Cleaning

I used to joke with my sister that I couldn’t die until I finished decluttering the attic. As the task was monumental and I hated the idea that anyone else would be forced to comb through it, I figured I must have made myself immortal.

How did it ever get to be this way? My living space is typically very tidy. There isn’t even a lot of clutter hiding in drawers as everything earns its keep or leaves the house. 

…Well…Unless I wasn’t sure what to do with it. 

It’s easy to toss garbage and it’s easy to donate goods that aren’t useful to us anymore. If something serves a purpose, we don’t mind returning it to its home. The trick is when something has acquired emotion and yet does not serve us in any way. The decluttering task becomes a much more difficult process. When riddled with indecision, I used to put it in the attic to deal with later. 

“Later.”

My mother-in-law passed away a few years ago. Even though we knew she didn’t have much time, we all lived in a state of denial. Truthfully, there are now many things up in the attic that my husband isn’t prepared to deal with. We didn’t just inherit things she wanted to pass down, we inherited a great deal of things that weren’t useful or wanted because no one knew how to deal with the emotions of our loss. 

My dad just passed. He also knew it was coming. I don’t know if he read about Death Cleaning or if he was channeling his inner Swede, but he did put a lot of thought into what he wanted to pass on. We were all given pictures, his art, memorabilia, and other items we knew would be used in our homes. He also passed on 5 Bibles from his collection for each of his 5 children. He included personal notes and meaningful pictures inside.

When it comes to minimalism and grief, it helps me to consider what I shared with the person I lost. My Dad and I had so much in common, but I narrowed down three things that we shared and asked him for things that I could use and remember him by. As an example, he and I shared a love of exercise and many memories of working out together. I took his weights. Hefty memorabilia, I know, but they are functional as well as sentimental. 

It is also helpful to note that not everything has to be physical. My mother-in-law taught me to crochet while we spent time together in the hospital. It is a hobby that reminds me of her and one I hope to teach my own kids – her grandchildren. 

As my Dad’s health failed, he was bed ridden. There were a lot of possessions that did not make the cut for getting passed on, but also didn’t get cleaned up prior to his leaving. My sister, who had provided round the clock care for months, was also left to comb through everything that remained. She looked at me as she threw garbage into a grocery sack and said pointedly: 

“This is the treatment your attic will get if I am left to clean it.”

Somehow, my attic isn’t so funny anymore. And, I know I am not really immortal. 

The idea of Death Cleaning isn’t morbid, but practical. We all eventually die. We will be left with the possessions of others or we will leave our own stuff behind. The best-case scenario is that we get intentional about what we have and what we want to leave before we get to a point that our stuff becomes someone else’s problem. 

Swedish Death Cleaning is taking off as a trending phenomenon. Even though it is billed as an activity for those 50 and older, no one is guaranteed another day and we all do not want to burden those we leave behind. 

We also don’t want to burden ourselves in our present lives. This practice has the immediate impact of evaluating what is useful to us and what brings us joy as well as what we might like to pass on to our posterity. 

Obviously, Death Cleaning and minimalism have a lot in common. As an aspiring minimalist, I hope that my consumptive habits take less of a toll on the environment and on future generations, but this new lens looks at a more immediate “future generation”. The one that doesn’t need to be burdened by what to do with my stuff. 

It’s time to tackle my attic. 

Until next time, live lightly!