"I wish I had known to start minimizing sooner — before my parents passed."

I often hear people say,"I wish I had known to start minimizing sooner — before my parents passed."

There’s a quiet sorrow in those words. Not just about the things left behind, but about the time lost — time that could have been spent grieving, remembering, and simply being together.

Just today, a dear friend shared her experience with me. She had spent the past week helping her father sort through her stepmother’s belongings after her passing. Her stepmother had been an avid crafter, with a room full of fabric, yarn, sewing machines, and years of collected supplies — all meaningful, but overwhelming.

Instead of spending that time walking with her dad, cooking for him, or sitting quietly together, she found herself buried in closets, drawers, and decisions. When she returned home, she said something I won’t forget:“I don’t want to leave this kind of burden for my kids.”

She’s a mother of teenagers and young adults, and like many of us, she hadn’t really thought about the things we leave behind — not just the sentimental keepsakes, but the accumulation of life that someone will eventually have to sort through.

She asked me, “Where do I even begin?”

Here’s what I told her — and maybe it will help you too:

Start small. Start with what’s easy.

Look for the low-hanging fruit:

• Do you have a garage, attic, basement, or storage unit with boxes you haven’t opened in a year (or more)?

• Start with one box. Just one.

• Sort items into three simple piles: Keep, Donate, and Let Go (trash or recycle).

• Don’t overthink the “keep” pile — you can come back to it later.

  
  

If storage spaces aren’t the issue, check the backs of drawers or closets. These are the places where things quietly gather over time. And if that still feels like too much, ask yourself:

What feels the lightest to start with — books? Clothes? Kitchen items?

Minimizing isn't about erasing the past. It's about choosing what carries meaning and gently letting go of what no longer does. It’s a loving act — not just for yourself, but for those who may one day have to walk through your space without you.

Because when you're no longer here, what your family will need most isn't your things —it's the gift of time, and the peace that comes with having less to carry.

And you can give them that gift, one small step at a time.

With warmth and care, Melissa And as always, reach out if you get stuck or need support!

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