To say "They don’t have to wear my sweaters or use my mugs" is both light-hearted and serious, at the same time. The permission to let go is one of the most generous gifts anyone could leave behind.
Well I just loved this Ilona! Funny but I’m guessing a lot of it is truthful. I’m chuckling as I read and thinking how crazily I am prepared. Maybe being sick for many years does that, but all my ducks are in a row now. My husband will absolutely give away my plants, but our basement is near pristine. If I live longer than expected, yippee!!!! No extra work. That nurse organizer in me keeps me moving, so how great will it be if I get to actually enjoy my last few?
I love that you have all your ducks in a row. It’s just so much easier on our loved ones. Clearing out is still my goal and despite what I’ve written, I do hope to face the music down there.
I have so often considered a letter to my children even though, like you, I “threaten” to live another 33 years.
I could comment on so much of your tongue-in-cheek writing which is at the same time loving and humorous, but I am left to a discussion of two specifics.
One, the “stuff” in the basement, which I inherited from my mother-in-law one year before my husband passed. Now there are treasures galore and photos of people I don’t know. Someday (?) I will go through them, although they sadly sit beside boxes of treasures from my husband. The things of life threaten to engulf me!
Secondly, returning to nature is my wish as well. Let me float in the sea endlessly.
Thanks, Ilona, this was spectacular and now I promise to write those letters :) I am wowed!
I’m glad to inspire your set of instructions. My parents left a borderline hoarding situation for me, so these things are important for the sanity of our kids.
Thanks for making me tear up reading this but it was for naught, since I'm going to check out of this earthly coil before you, not the other way around. My life would be hell without you (although, ironically, that may be where I'm going when I pass!) xoxoxoxoxoxoxo!
As always your writing has a blend of reality with a dash of comedic flair. I had my will all finished and ready to be signed months ago but when I go to get two people to sign it or a notary, something always gets in the way. When can I get two people to sign at one sitting? That’s my excuse.
The will probably needs updating with all that has been happening in this weird, whacky world.
Again, thanks for your humour about the realities we all face. It’s fun to see myself in your foibles. ~ DR
Interesting that something is always getting in the way, Deborah. Maybe there does need to be a tweak or two, and the universe is intervening. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Oh, how happy I am you re-shared this post! It made me laugh and inspired me to write something like this for my husband. My sister wrote me a letter before she died from cancer at 42, and I cherish it dearly. It isn't as funny as your post, but it does make me smile; she listed all the reasons dying young is a good thing. One day I may share her words with Substack.
The "Most Important Thing" you want the kids to know – "they owe me nothing. They don’t have to keep my stuff. They don’t have to wear my sweaters or use my mugs. I don’t want guilt haunting them" – is perhaps the most liberating and generous message a parent can impart. It’s an act of profound love that transcends even death, setting your children free from the invisible burdens of expectation or obligation. 🩵
The last line:
“ I loved you. I still do. I always will.”
Love goes beyond all boundaries and back again, whether we’re fully composted or not.🌹
Yes, love transcends all! Thank you for the reminder, Jocelyn.
You’re welcome and I also worry about the scads of stuff I would leave my husband to unpack if I go first.🌹
A delightful read!
To say "They don’t have to wear my sweaters or use my mugs" is both light-hearted and serious, at the same time. The permission to let go is one of the most generous gifts anyone could leave behind.
My parents left me a lot of “stuff” to sort through and it was both a physical and emotional burden. Don’t want to leave my kids with a second arrow.
Well I just loved this Ilona! Funny but I’m guessing a lot of it is truthful. I’m chuckling as I read and thinking how crazily I am prepared. Maybe being sick for many years does that, but all my ducks are in a row now. My husband will absolutely give away my plants, but our basement is near pristine. If I live longer than expected, yippee!!!! No extra work. That nurse organizer in me keeps me moving, so how great will it be if I get to actually enjoy my last few?
I love that you have all your ducks in a row. It’s just so much easier on our loved ones. Clearing out is still my goal and despite what I’ve written, I do hope to face the music down there.
I have so often considered a letter to my children even though, like you, I “threaten” to live another 33 years.
I could comment on so much of your tongue-in-cheek writing which is at the same time loving and humorous, but I am left to a discussion of two specifics.
One, the “stuff” in the basement, which I inherited from my mother-in-law one year before my husband passed. Now there are treasures galore and photos of people I don’t know. Someday (?) I will go through them, although they sadly sit beside boxes of treasures from my husband. The things of life threaten to engulf me!
Secondly, returning to nature is my wish as well. Let me float in the sea endlessly.
Thanks, Ilona, this was spectacular and now I promise to write those letters :) I am wowed!
I’m glad to inspire your set of instructions. My parents left a borderline hoarding situation for me, so these things are important for the sanity of our kids.
I cannot even explain how much I loved this!
Thanks pal 🩵
Thanks for making me tear up reading this but it was for naught, since I'm going to check out of this earthly coil before you, not the other way around. My life would be hell without you (although, ironically, that may be where I'm going when I pass!) xoxoxoxoxoxoxo!
Every day with you is heaven (and don't worry, there is no hell despite what the zealots preach.)
Loved this piece - especially the right balance of humor and sensitivity. I am tempted to think of mine.
Thank you, Krithika. I'm impressed with your desire to face this at such a young age.
As always your writing has a blend of reality with a dash of comedic flair. I had my will all finished and ready to be signed months ago but when I go to get two people to sign it or a notary, something always gets in the way. When can I get two people to sign at one sitting? That’s my excuse.
The will probably needs updating with all that has been happening in this weird, whacky world.
Again, thanks for your humour about the realities we all face. It’s fun to see myself in your foibles. ~ DR
Interesting that something is always getting in the way, Deborah. Maybe there does need to be a tweak or two, and the universe is intervening. Thanks for reading and commenting.
Oh, how happy I am you re-shared this post! It made me laugh and inspired me to write something like this for my husband. My sister wrote me a letter before she died from cancer at 42, and I cherish it dearly. It isn't as funny as your post, but it does make me smile; she listed all the reasons dying young is a good thing. One day I may share her words with Substack.
I'm sorry to hear that she died so young! I'm sure you love connecting with her again by rereading her words.
Change the names and this could be me talking. I love and relate to all of this!
Thanks Cindy! I’m glad I’m not the only one with an unloved basement.
Ilona Goanos: This witty piece is one of the wiser meditations upon human mortality I have encountered.
Your message to your well-loved survivors will raise smiles through tears.
You are well-loved, and this piece shows much of your inner depth and spirituality.
Thank you so much for this heartfelt, beautiful piece that rings of your personality.
You’re welcome, Armand. I’m glad you enjoyed it💕
The "Most Important Thing" you want the kids to know – "they owe me nothing. They don’t have to keep my stuff. They don’t have to wear my sweaters or use my mugs. I don’t want guilt haunting them" – is perhaps the most liberating and generous message a parent can impart. It’s an act of profound love that transcends even death, setting your children free from the invisible burdens of expectation or obligation. 🩵