The Things We Leave Behind

‍ ‍‍I've often said, "Everything you own will eventually become someone else's responsibility." It's one of those observations that sounds a bit dramatic until life proves it true. Over the last few months, those words have taken on a very personal meaning.

‍ ‍‍My father-in-law recently moved out of his home and into an apartment closer to his children and to my mother-in-law, who is now in long-term care. Like many families facing a major transition, the move involved far more than simply packing boxes and loading a moving truck. To prepare for the move, my husband and his brother spent multiple weekends sorting, packing, decluttering, and helping get the house ready for its new owners. It was physically demanding work, but the emotional side was even more challenging.

‍ ‍‍For starters, the house was about three hours away. That meant entire weekends spent travelling back and forth, rearranging work schedules, and putting other responsibilities on hold. What might have been a simple project if it were nearby became a months-long commitment. There were also circumstances beyond anyone's control. My mother-in-law's illness came on suddenly, which meant she never had the opportunity to prepare for being absent from the home she had shared for years. Like many couples, she had knowledge, routines, and responsibilities that were never formally documented because there was never an expectation that she wouldn't be there. Then there was the mountain of administrative work that comes with moving. Utilities needed to be cancelled. Accounts needed to be updated. Documents needed to be located. Many tasks could only be completed by my father-in-law himself, which often meant coordinating schedules and making additional trips to be there during business hours. Anyone who has helped a parent move knows that the paperwork can be just as exhausting as the physical labour.

‍ ‍‍The move is now complete. The house belongs to someone else, and my father-in-law is settling into his new home. There is relief in that. There is also sadness. This wasn't a move that was fully chosen. It was a move made necessary by changing circumstances, and there is a difference between wanting a new chapter and being forced into one.

‍ ‍‍One unexpected outcome of this came from my husband. After spending weeks sorting through his parent’s possessions, he came home with a new perspective. The experience prompted him to reassess the belongings he had been storing, and he became determined to sort through them, keep only what truly mattered, and clear out the rest. More importantly, he wanted to ensure that the responsibility of dealing with those items would not one day fall to someone he loves. He finally understood what I meant when I said that everything we keep will someday need to be handled by someone else.

‍ ‍‍The reason I'm sharing this story is because it is incredibly common. Adult children find themselves sorting through homes after a parent has died or moved into care. They are often grieving, overwhelmed, exhausted, and pressed for time - a difficult combination. Generally, one of two things happens. Some become so overwhelmed that they quickly donate, sell, or discard most of the contents of a home. Others spend months or even years trying to carefully sort every item, becoming stuck in the process and unable to move forward. Neither approach is particularly good.

‍ ‍‍So what is the solution? Perhaps it's as simple as breaking the cycle. Take time every year to look through your belongings and ask whether they still serve a purpose in this stage of your life. Organize important paperwork. Keep records up to date. Share where important documents are kept. Make sure someone knows how to access essential accounts. Leave instructions where they can be found.

‍ ‍‍Most importantly, have conversations with your family about your wishes as you age and about what should happen after you're gone. They're not easy conversations. Most of us would rather avoid them. But once they're had, everyone usually feels a sense of relief. Letting your loved ones know what matters most to you is not morbid, it’s a beautiful act of caring that they’ll appreciate.

None of us can prepare for every circumstance, but a little organization can make life much easier for the people who may one day need to help us. And that may be one of the greatest gifts we leave behind.

‍ ‍‍Please reach out through my website for a conversation, ask questions or take that first step toward a home and life that truly supports you! www.simplesanctuaryhomeorganization.com ‍

**If you’d like a pdf copy of the accompanying checklist, please email me and I’ll send it along.