Tuesday, August 19, 2025

“Sweet-ish” Death Cleaning ~ Part 2 ~ The Pollyanna Principle

          Why do I call death cleaning “sweet-ish?” Because to me it has been that. As I evaluate all we own and consider what can be given away or sold, I’ve contemplated it through my experience with the Pollyanna* Principle. Let me digress a bit to explain where I’m coming from.

          Decades ago, after my sister Carolyn and I buried our parents and death cleaned for them, I took a trip to Israel to visit her, toting along some of the treasures she wished to have from our childhood home. Carolyn thrilled, showing me the land and introducing me to friends-like-family. All went well until we left Eilat (southernmost tip of Israel) for Jerusalem, and the car broke down.

          Stuck! It was May. It was hot.

          There we were in the desert wondering how long we’d be stranded. We had some water and snacks and managed to shield each other for “privacy purposes,” seeing we were nowhere near a facility.

          A carload of passers stopped to help us—one gentleman sucking gas from the fuel pump, thinking that might solve our problem. He accidently swallowed a bit of gasoline and let loose an impressive belch! This remedy, however, didn’t help—the sucking or the sound effects!

          While we awaited a tow truck and night fell, I exclaimed, “Well, it could be a lot worse. After all, we’ve got some supplies, we have a great view of the sky, and Israel isn’t presently being bombed from the east, and…”

          “Okay, Pollyanna!” Carolyn exclaimed.

          From that time on, whenever I’d say something like, “Well, it could be worse,” etc. my sister and later (after hearing the story) my husband would say, “Okay, Pollyanna!”

          Although I do despair at times, mostly I’m an upbeat person—perhaps a Pollyanna wannabe. So, the idea of death cleaning made me consider these points:

1) Getting rid of things we don’t need can give joy to others.

2) Removing clutter or unneeded items frees us from things, which are temporal.

3) Giving and receiving both result in blessing—for the giver and the receiver.

4) It’s helpful to repurpose our belongings and give them a use beyond us.

5) It simplifies life for either downsizing, senior-living, or grave-prep.

6) It saves on our children or whoever may be responsible for caring for our estates when we’re gone or become unable to do so.

          Okay, Pollyanna!

          “You can’t take it with you when you go!” If I keep the temporal-ness of things in mind, they become less important to hold so tightly. Are my things so important they own me? If so, my sights might be on the wrong plain.

          When I leave this world, I’ll hopefully go with as much done as possible in regard to items I own (or own me, if that’s the case). I’m really not much attached to things, to be honest.

          Here’s something I’ve started: A list of my children, their spouses, grandchildren, and friends whom I wish to memory-gift with an item I consider precious. I’ll not only write what the item is but will leave a note about its history along with a clear explanation where it’s located (if I don’t “croak” before completing this goal).

          Now, here’s where I need to mention what most of us already know. Our kids don’t want our stuff. In many if not most cases, this is true. Because of that, Brian and I are leaving only items “no bigger than a breadbox” for each because the now-generations don’t generally want the kind of “stuff” we have. There may be exceptions to this rule but mostly your things—as precious as they are to you—don’t matter as much to those whom you wish they mattered to.

          One thing you might do—take your family member for a walk through your home and ask that person if there’s something they’d like to have when you’re gone. If he/she says yes and shows you, write that down. If you’ve already promised it to someone else or have in your mind it’ll go to so-n-so, well then, better tell the person that particular item’s already spoken for. Another idea is to go ahead and gift special items to the people you wish to own them while you’re still living.

          Now, what about the first step in the nitty-gritty of death cleaning? You may be overwhelmed and question, “Where do I even begin?” In The Swedish Art of Death Cleaning, author Margareta Magnusson suggests getting rid of the largest items first. By doing this, you’ll see an immediate difference and ray of hope for moving forward. (You might need to enlist help if you’re bodily not able to do this part.)

          We recently unloaded 6 large items from our home. We also have a clue what additional furniture we don’t need in the event we move into senior-apartment living rather than the grave first. And several carloads of boxed items have already been donated to our local thrift store.

          Now, this may sound contrary to all we’ve done so far, but we used the money from the sold items to buy “old-age-friendly” ones. Yes, we added things that make life simpler now as well as will benefit when we grow older, but we added less than we removed.

          Next, list more items in your home you’ve considered living without in the near future. At the top of your sheet of paper (or computer file), put the name of the item then 3 columns labeled YES, NO, and MAYBE. As you make your list, some things you’ll check off as YES or NO right away.

          My advice on the MAYBEs? Store them away (not buried too deeply though) and revisit them at a later time. If they’re still MAYBEs after some time, keep them until you’re absolutely certain so you have no regrets. If you’ve not missed them when put away, you likely needn’t hold onto those longer. Your call!

          For tackling all items in a home without becoming overwhelmed, try using the Mount Vernon method, introduced to me in another book I read decades ago about organizing a home. At Washington’s historic home the people who clean start at the front door and move through the home in a logical sequence until the entire place is cleaned.

          You can practice this same principle in death-cleaning. Don’t worry about how long it takes you to “travel” through your entire home. Some people will handle this quicker than others. No worries if you aren’t thorough the first time. You can always Mount Vernon-ize again for simplifying/minimalizing.

          This blog post series on “sweet-ish” death cleaning may seem contrary to the overall theme of my blog—Hope! I would argue it’s quite the opposite. If you’re a believer in Jesus as Lord and Savior and you decide to death clean, you’re exercising the Hope Who’s within you. You’re showing eternity holds more value than the here and now. And you’re making more time to spend with the Lord while you wait because you’ve lessened what requires care or burdens you.

          Let me close this Part 2 by telling you that death cleaning has been an enjoyable process for me, it’s given me great joy, it’s brought back so many special memories, and it’s reminded me of all God has blessed us with over the years.

          “Okay, Pollyanna!”

You Can’t Take It with You When You Go

https://www.bing.com/videos/riverview/relatedvideo?q=you+can%27t+take+it+with+you+Christian+song&qs=n&sp=1&ghc=1&lq=0&pq=you+can%27t+take+it+with+you+christian+son&sc=040&sk=&cvid=116939B348DE45A6A10FB5272AEE33C5&ajaxnorecss=1&sid=143A6C5D97DF663027347A669659670D&jsoncbid=0&ajaxsydconv=1&ru=%2fsearch%3fq%3dyou%2520can%2527t%2520take%2520it%2520with%2520you%2520Christian%2520song%26qs%3dn%26form%3dQBRE%26sp%3d1%26ghc%3d1%26lq%3d0%26pq%3dyou%2520can%2527t%2520take%2520it%2520with%2520you%2520christian%2520son%26sc%3d040%26sk%3d%26cvid%3d116939B348DE45A6A10FB5272AEE33C5%26ajaxnorecss%3d1%26sid%3d143A6C5D97DF663027347A669659670D%26format%3dsnrjson%26jsoncbid%3d0%26ajaxsydconv%3d1&mmscn=vwrc&mid=BC8CB188A64B8BBFA810BC8CB188A64B8BBFA810&FORM=WRVORC

 #deathcleaningbenefits #treasures #upbeatattitude #Pollyanna #MountVernon #blessingsfromGod

*main character in a 1913 novel & later in a movie who, despite all the hardships she faced, maintained a cheerful, optimistic attitude

Photo Credit: noredos.com

Tuesday, August 5, 2025

“Sweet-ish” Death Cleaning ~ Part 1 ~ Inheriting a Forklift

          When our dad died, my sister and I were left to clean out what had been our family home—a very full 2-story house with equally full attic and basement, plus garage (which I’ll comment on a bit later). My husband held down our home and family a great distance away in another state to free me to work with my sister for the 3 weeks she had left in the USA (having come from overseas).

          Our mother died first almost 4 years earlier. Before she passed, she apologized for “the mess I’ve left for you to deal with.” Over the next years whenever we offered to help weed down piles in the house, Dad expressed that he didn’t want us “to touch anything. You can do it when I’m gone.” So it was, when Dad passed, we were stuck touching everything.

          To complicate life just a bit more, our grandparents had owned this home before they could no longer stay there, and they left family treasures dating back more than a century.

         Our parents weren’t sloppy nor dirty. They weren’t hoarders, but they kept a lot of stuff that “might be useful one day.” Yes, they were depression-era graduates, and many in that class didn’t throw anything away.

          Dad went to Heaven in the month of July—one of the hottest New Jersey summers in a long time. After we said our “see you later” to Dad at the graveside in Pennsylvania, my husband and kids drove north to our home. My sister and I headed east to tackle the task before us.

          The house had 2 window air conditioners only. But we determined to honor our parents and do the best we could—until we were weeks into it, taking a couple showers a day to survive, and so exhausted that everything seemed funny when it really wasn’t.

          Example: When we headed down to the basement where it was slightly cooler, I climbed onto a stool to empty shelves. “Hey, these look old!” I said handing cans and bottles down to my sister and turning some around to read the labels. “They’re so old they don’t even have zip codes on them!” We laughed so hard we nearly wet our pants!

          Then we tackled Dad’s workbench and the piles of parts he kept “in case,” lots of antiques he picked up from the Englishtown Flea Market, and everything else imaginable hanging from the joists with hooks made from old phone wires (which, when I was growing up, I used to create little animals—so, of course, not junk).

          Mom saved a lot of magazines and booklets with Biblical themes. She kept every Radio Bible Class Our Daily Bread devotional book for scores of years “in case” she needed an inspirational piece for speaking or teaching opportunities. There were Our Daily Breads upstairs and downstairs, in cabinets and on table tops.

          When I finally decided to tackle the garage (my sister opting not to step foot in there—smart girl), we dubbed me with a super-hero name before I charged forward! No one had been in there for years, I don’t think, because the only way in was to walk sideways between all the stuff that Dad accumulated, and Dad, in his later years, was wider than “sideways.”

          I started moving one item at a time out the big double doors, until I could get in far enough and discovered…

          IT!

          Sweaty, dirty me ran back into the house. “Carolyn, you’re not gonna believe what’s out there!”

          “There can’t be anything worse than what we’ve already uncovered. Can there?”

          I wiped the sweat from my forehead to keep my eyeballs from drowning. “A forklift! We’ve inherited a forklift!”

          We were stymied! Again, we broke out in laughter along with banter about how much our dad must’ve loved us to leave us…

          …a forklift!

          I could barely spit out my next words. “W….we…ha-ha-ha…can…ha-ha-ha…use it to move all the Our Daily Breads!”

          Yup, Dad left us a forklift. (How many people can make that claim!)

          When my sister needed to return to her employment overseas, I asked a few friends if they’d like to help me with an estate sale. They gladly agreed. We spent several days preparing what was left for the sale, and God honored all efforts with amazingly good results.

          My sister and I were able to honor our parents after all. They wished for us to make sure the missionaries they supported were taken care of for quite some time. The results of the estate sale made that possible.

          As for the friends who came and helped, when all was said and done, they returned home and started giving away, throwing away, repurposing contents of their homes.

          Why?

          They mutually said, “We don’t want our kids to go through what you girls did!”

          And that’s why I’m writing this post and the ones that will follow. Because we, too, don’t want our kids to have to go through that. It just doesn’t seem fair.

          Because the diagnosis I have doesn’t necessarily promise me a long life, I’ve decided (and hubby’s on board) to do what some call death cleaning. I don’t have to do this now, but I may not be able to do it down the road, even if I’m still on this side of the grass.

          So, I purchased a book which intrigued me and offered helpful suggestions—The Art of Swedish Death Cleaning: How to Free Your Family from a Lifetime of Clutter by Margareta Magnusson—a small, easy-to-read book written by a Scandinavian woman in her 80s. You see, in her country, death cleaning is something most the population does as part of life because…

          …well, because everyone dies. Period.

          In Part 2 I’ll share with you benefits of death cleaning. I’ll also try to give you some tips from the book I read to help get you (who are older) started.

          Now, the term “death cleaning” may upset some. Don’t let that deter you. Just call it down-sizing, eliminating clutter, whatever you wish. The helpful hints apply to whatever you call it. I’ve chosen to name our process “sweet-ish” death cleaning—the reason for that title I’ll also explain in Part 2.

          Need help? I’d lend you our forklift if I could, but my sister and I decided that was something we wouldn’t keep…

          …after moving the Our Daily Bread devotionals, that is! Sorry, Dad…and Mom.

          I always include a song with my blog posts. Often songs I add just “pop” into my head and heart. This time I was stumped, so I explained to hubby what this post would be about and asked, “What song or hymn would go with something as crazy as death and a forklift?”

          Without hesitation he replied, “Burdens Are Lifted at Calvary!”

          “Why didn’t I think of that one! Not only forklift apropos but also one of Dad’s favorites. Talk about fitting!”

Burdens Are Lifted at Calvary by John M. Moore, 1952

—Gaither Homecoming Friends—

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwXz5Mx7ZWE&list=RDfwXz5Mx7ZWE&start_radio=1

 

P.S.—Although this blog post centers on the theme of death cleaning and the humorous times my sister and I experienced while emptying our parents’ estate, we truly loved them and grieved their passing. Inasmuch as the death cleaning “nearly killed us,” in hindsight the comic relief may’ve been a blessing in disguise. Mom’s been gone almost 35 years, and Dad 30. It hardly seems possible this was so long ago yet “just yesterday.”

 

#Swedishdeathcleaning #parentsdying #clutter #cleaningoutestate #estatesale

#forklift #inheritance

Photo Credit: shutterstock.com