End-of-life decluttering.
You hear that phrase a lot these days. Everyone passes away eventually, but when they do, it's the people left behind who suffer most. Because death often comes without warning, loved ones are left to sort through things without knowing what's trash and what's precious, struggling with locked devices with unknown PINs, and agonizing over how to dispose of bulky furniture or old clothes.
The idea is to sort through and throw out those items while you're still healthy, keeping everything neat and organized so you're ready whenever your time comes. It's part of what people call 'end-of-life planning.'
When a friend's older sister decided to do her own end-of-life decluttering, I offered to help. While clearing things out, we came across a set of brand-new, unused Noritake plates, and to my surprise, she offered to give them to me. It was such a generous offer that I gratefully accepted.
The decluttering went smoothly, leaving her room clean, tidy, and wonderfully refreshed.
...But it was right after that. On Saturday, my hand slipped and I broke one of the plates. Noritake is high-density porcelain, built so tough it doesn't break easily, but—
It shattered anyway.
Then, on Tuesday of the following week, I bumped the remaining plate against something while taking it out of the fridge, breaking that one too. I felt terrible, considering she had been kind enough to give them to me.
The very next day, Wednesday, my friend called. Her sister had passed away. She had fallen unconscious on Saturday and died on Sunday.
...I wonder if those broken plates were some kind of premonition.
May her soul rest in peace.