To-do tasks before I kick the bucket
I do not like to dwell on my own mortality. I am not particularly concerned about my ultimate demise nor am I particularly fearful of it. I totally agree with Woody Allen’s sentiment above.
But ya just never know. Traffic accidents, home repair projects, heart attacks, jealous husbands, and my own cooking are all existential threats (see my last post). Should I leave this life unexpectedly, I would like to leave it so that it is not a big bother for kids.
Among the tasks I am working on:
Downsizing personal property. I’ve done a pretty good job of this already, living in an uncluttered 850 sq ft townhouse. My single car garage has room for my car and a few things like garden tools and camping equipment. All my clothes should fit in one or two car loads to the Goodwill store. I’m not much of a book collector, but I suppose I could sort through the ones I still own in paper format. I suspect before the end I will be living is some sort of senior housing with even much less space than I have now, so maybe this will take care of itself.
Digitizing records/photos/family movies. I don’t have a lot of paper stuff, but I would like to eliminate all of it. I’ve converted all my old VHS tapes to mp4s, but I have a lot of scanning of old photos and documents which I can’t seem to work up much enthusiasm to do. I am not sure what to do with the old paper stuff. (I have given my kids access to my passwords already.)
Creating will and health directive. This one is actually done. I used an online program to make a simple will, had it notarized and have sent copies to each of my children. This includes a health care directive and property release statement. My kids only have to decide if they want their inheritance in ten or twenty dollar bills.
Arranging for funeral stuff. I have made arrangements to donate my body to the University of Minnesota’s Anatomy Bequest Program on my death (the act that spurred this post.) After organ donations, students will slice and dice and then I will cremated with my ashes going to a common burial site in a local cemetery. No muss, no fuss, no expense to my kids, maybe some benefit to science. They say, after all, that cremation is the last chance most of us will have to have a flaming hot body.
Creating the happy 100. I don’t want a funeral, but a nice family dinner after my passing would be nice. For the occasion, I plan to create a “Happy 100” slideshow made up of photographs taken throughout my life when I have been the happiest. While I have not been immune to sadness, my joyful days have greatly outnumbered the painful ones. I’d like people to remember that.
Identifying memorabilia. While I don’t think of myself as a hoarder, I have managed to collect a lot of art on my travels around the world. My long term project is to create a spreadsheet of each item with a photo, date and location of purpose, and any information about it. None of the stuff has much monetary value as far as I know, but I get a kick out of seeing my painting from Arusha, Tanzania each time I enter my house, reminding me of my Kilimanjaro climb.
Completing another book. My professional blogging days are done. What gets posted in the Blue Skunk now is personal. I would like to collate some of the posts collected from the blog over the past years into a book that may communicate a few of the lessons I have learned. Title? Words out of the Blue (Skunk)? A Whiff of the Blue Skunk? Suggestions?
I would like my relatives’ memory of me to be of fondness, not of frustration. And this means taking action now, not later. As Micheal Gearson reminds us:
The cosmologists, even with all their depressing talk about the eventual heat death of the cosmos, offer some comfort. They point out that we live in the briefest window — a fraction of a fraction of the unimaginable vastness of deep time —in which it is physically possible for life to exist. So we inhabit (or are chosen to inhabit) an astounding, privileged instant in the life span of the universe.
Suggestions for other, let’s call them, “transitional tasks”?
Reader Comments (5)
That all sounds great. Just by downsizing and even thinking of getting rid of some things is more than my folks did. They did the wills and directives and such but cleaning out their house was a bit of a chore. I’ve learned the lesson to not be sentimental about pieces of furniture! And your realism about the true “value” of your art is nice. My dad was disappointed the art he’d collected had little monetary value. But it had made them happy for years! Why the disappointment I don’t know. It sounds like you’ve done everything you can. And your memory will certainly be a blessing.
It’s always good to have a plan, and yours is very wise. I know your children will appreciate that you took care of most of the major decisions yourself. You’ve even motivated me to get back at getting my own affairs in order for when my time comes.
Your post is inspirational, and even though I've done the downsizing, it looks like I still have some work to do! Love keeping up on your travels and life adventures.
I hope your happy 100 pictures will be shown on your 100th birthday
Thanks, Jim. I've never viewed "art" as an investment - only a spur to fond memories of the experiences I had collecting it, often of being with my children or grandchildren while traveling. In the end, money really DOESN'T make one happy.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Doug
Hi Mandy,
Good luck with your planning. Hey, it gives me something to work on in retirement! Hah!
Doug
Thanks, Lisa. Hope I have a lot of trips still ahead of me.
Doug
Hi Kenn,
Thanks for the kind words. I'm not that worried about how long I live, but how well I can live being mentally and physically active. So far, so good, I think.
Doug