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When you die, most of the stuff you have right now will fall into one of these 3 categories
“Keep,” “Give out” or “Trash.”
Cleaning out my father’s house after his death remains the strongest memory of the series of events that unfolded over an unexpectedly short period in the life of a man I’d known my entire life.
It had all started with a phone call about his health, and the events had blurred after that; until he breathed his last in my hands, at a government hospital where he was surrounded by nurses and some other members of the family. After that came the deluge of condolences and the avalanche of post-mortem deliberations that weighed down heavily on my premature shoulders.
“As his first son, you are expected to do this … you are expected to do that.” The voices of ancestors called out loudly in the language of tradition.
Luckily, my father, who’d been a partial non-conformist in his lifetime, had already laid out the groundwork for affairs after his death that insulated us from the weight of expectations, unspoken fears and interests that often disguises itself as wise counsel in these situations. This act of preparing ahead for his death and…
