Döstädning

Döstädning, is a concept I have only recently discovered. It is often referred to as Swedish death cleaning and involves decluttering and organizing one’s belongings as a proactive and thoughtful process to reduce the burden on loved ones after one’s death.

The idea is to gradually simplify possessions over time, keeping only what is meaningful and necessary, while discarding or passing on items that may not hold personal value or significance to others. It’s both a practical and reflective approach to tidying up with consideration for one’s legacy and those left behind.

And so a few years ago I began this process in our own home. Since retiring I’ve had the time to wade through and process the mountain of cherished possessions, ideals, and life experiences we have inherited from our elders to better understand each individual and peice together their story. I have moved beyond possesions to processing thoughts and resolving feelings that linger, trying to make sense of my history and the events that have led me to where I am today.

This has truly been a journey of discovery.

As my parents were divorced when I was a baby and dad was in the Navy, I didn’t have day to day contact with my him. But one thing he did communicate to me, other than being a steadfast Christian, was his infatuation with everything Minnesota, er um Swedish. I only had infrequent and spotty access to this knowledge so misunderstandings were bound to occur. For example, in an attempt to proudly state my heritage, I had an argument with my 1st grade teacher, determined to convince her and my other classmates that my grandfather was a viking. Of course in the end I was humiliated to find my dad’s information was unreliable – not realizing that I was the one who had misunderstood.

Sadly, as I got older, our relationship became more contentious. I was embarrased by the blue and yellow Swedish flag and other 20 or so pins covering his loud and proud “Vietnam Veteran” cap and the religious bumper stickers on the back of his van. Regrettably, I rolled my eyes and walked away whenever he mentioned topics related to those pins or stickers.

But now, as I continue döstädning and work to uncover my father’s truth and honor his memory, I have spent more time trying to understand. I’m still resolving other feelings, but I’ve immersed myself in the Skandie side of life and have found the experience oddly comforting. Along with similar physical characteristics, apparently, attention to detail, introspection, melancholy, and singing poignant songs are in my DNA. And so I’m now embracing them unapologetically.

Thanks Dad.