Possessions
The stuff we own, what we do with it, why it matters, and a poem about our possessions to celebrate National Poetry Month.
I never thought about who will get my personal possessions until my second cancer surgery. Even afterward, knowing I needed to create one, I procrastinated making The List, or in other words, a handwritten screed of my personal possessions that accompanies The Will.
Like you, I’ve been busy living to spend time on making The List. Who wants to think about end-of-life things?
Admittedly, I have stuff. We all have stuff. And even though Marie Kondo has been the rage for the last several years, where tidying up and less is more is a thing, it’s not easy to part with our possessions. Now, not everyone subscribes to the KonMari Method, an organizational lifestyle. You might even be like Marie who?
Americans are a country of achievers, doers, collectors of things, and, some of us, hoarders. We have the stuff we admire, play with, toss, donate, and give to others.
I’ve worked hard for my stuff. I want my personal possessions to go to people who will appreciate them. To serve as a memento for when my bones are dust and a reminder that I once lived.
Gift-giving has a long history across all cultures. We give so much more than the physical thing when we gift. It’s a connection and offers a purpose. It’s satisfying for the giver and the receiver. Giving makes us feel happy. Gift-giving creates the butterfly effect—over time, these small acts of giving have large, unpredictable effects. Gift-giving is a solid, if temporary, solution for a real-world problem—pollution.
I don’t think it’s appropriate to leave the dispersing of stuff to chance, a real estate auction, or worse, the dumpster. Our landfills are cities. Our oceans are garbage patches. Overflowing and floating single-use plastic, fishing gear, toilets, tires, armless Barbie dolls, rusted griddles, old batteries, princess wall phones, books, and clothes.
My attorney suggested I handwrite my list of gifts, assign people to each item, then store The List in a safe. He said electronic documents could be manipulated, and stickers on the backs or bottoms of items fall off or disappear. His advice is sage. I listened but continued to fret about writing The List. It seemed that by penning my personal possessions on paper, I was admitting my vulnerability and end of life. Yes, it will happen, and I’m not in denial. Yet, my pen hovered over the blank sheet. Then in Summer Brennen’s latest #EssayCamp, on her Substack, A Writer’s Notebook, she suggested writing A Five Things Essay, “an all-purpose writing prompt to help you find your voice, lose your voice, beat writer's block, or figure out what the hell you want to write about in the first place.” My Five Things turned into The List and then this post.
Chanel Mademoiselle, with its bright orangy notes mellowing into a sexy deep woody scent, for my nephew because he’s bright, fun, and fluid, and I know he’ll spritz it on his wrists every day.
Hand-carved Costa Rican maracas for my grandson, whose music is fire.
A single strand of choker pearls, a gift from my first fiancé—a generous, funny man who was too old but showered me with exotic worldwide destinations—to go to my oldest niece, who visited me on my thirtieth birthday when I received them.
An acoustic guitar for my bestie because she won’t let it collect dust like I do.
My Kindle Paperwhite is for my niece because she’s a teacher and a reader.
A collection of notebooks for a friend who collects notebooks for the sake of collecting because we notebook collectors can relate on an entirely different level than people who don’t collect notebooks.
My List is large and will continue to grow because I have more stuff than I care to admit.
I don’t have all the life answers, but now I have the beginnings of The List. I’m working to buy less and gift more while I’m still breathing. Writing The List took time. Assigning my people was harder than I thought. But now I know where most of my possessions are going, temporarily anyway. Regardless of whether you make your List or not, and I hope you do, we’re all headed to the same place. We don’t know when, and our possessions will eventually end up where they end up, won’t they?
Let me know in the comments how you are managing your possessions. Talk soon. xx
“Aunt Jane,” a poem (about possessions) by Robert William Service. Happy National Poetry Month.
Aunt Jane
When Aunt Jane died we hunted round,
And money everywhere we found.
How much I do not care to say,
But no death duties will we pay,
And Aunt Jane will be well content
We bilked the bloody Government.
While others spent she loved to save,
But couldn't take it to her grave.
While others save we love to spend;
She hated us but in the end
Because she left no Testament
To us all her possessions went.
That is to say they did not find
A lawyer's Will of any kind.
Yet there was one in her own hand,
A Home for Ailing Cats she planned.
Well, you can understand my ire:
Promptly I put it in the fire.
In misery she chose to die,
Yet we will make her money fly.
And as we mourn for poor Aunt Jane
The thought alleviates our pain:
Perhaps her savings in the end
Gave her more joy than we who spend.Stay curious. Stay safe. Make an impact.
Oh, the synchronicity!!! I’m busy boxing up so much stuff I no longer use nor need. Partly, because I want the items to be useful to someone in need, and partly because I’m very mindful that someone will need to disburse/dispose of them when my time comes. I’m incredibly healthy, and have no inkling when that day will come, tho I would like my home to be much more KonMari than it is today. So, now I will return to my task at hand - boxing my excess!