After my friend’s father died, while sorting his belongings, she discovered his cross-dressing wardrobe, complete with wigs and high heels. Perhaps he intended for her to find them; perhaps he wanted her to know something about himself that he didn’t (couldn’t?) share with her while he was alive. 

My father did not leave behind anything quite so interesting or revealing. With his papers and documents, he had kept some old appointment books. It was nice to see his handwriting, but these books contained nothing about who he was. There were no to-do lists neatly checked off, no scribbled reminders, not even a doodle. I tossed them without regret. What was far more important to me was his beloved, cracked, leather-bound copy of Robert Burns’ poems, chock full of sticky notes to mark his favourites.

My late husband was a bit of a packrat. Amongst his various stockpiles, I found bundles and bundles of the old pink “While you were out” phone messages. I tossed them. No one needs to know who called him on May 13, 1983. On the other hand, his album collection, and curiously enough, the bags of matchbooks, are sentimental reminders of who we were and where we went.

Recently, I had a conversation with someone who regrets discarding a box of journals and notebooks that her grandmother had written. She didn’t even peek in them! This shocks me more than throwing them out. But her grandmother had some responsibility here too; she could have said something to give permission, or left a note in the box.

“Dosstadning” is the Swedish art of death cleaning. It is the mindful sorting of our own belongings before we go. Doing so reduces the burden on loved ones and gives us the chance to consider the impact on our family. Writing one’s will is important of course, but think of your loved ones sorting through the contents of your closets and drawers–it’s much more personal, intimate even.

I’m reminded of the man who had an enormous library. Purposefully, he reduced the collection to one hundred books, and then to ten, so his family would know which books meant the most to him.

What will your belongings say about you?

Keep your joy.

Anne Milne is an every Sunday blogger, unless it’s a holiday weekend. Or summertime.