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sly means something to her.</p><ul><li>Is it power?</li><li>Is it the success of being able to purchase items she couldn’t as a young, poor child?</li><li>Is it from memories with my Dad? I’m not sure about that since she was able to give away most of his clothing within the months following his death. That was surprising.</li></ul><p id="dbcc">I'm not a therapist, so I have no idea what happens in her head.</p><p id="b600">All I know is that it affects me, my happiness, and my relationship with her.</p><p id="f974">I don’t want to go in the house. I don’t want to be amongst the stuff that keeps me up at night, the nightmare awaiting me one day. The financial burden we will face.</p><p id="ed82">It makes me want to avoid her. It makes me disappointed in how she allowed this to happen. I’m embarrassed I grew up this way.</p><p id="1f1c">I guess I won’t know what to do until that inevitable day comes.</p><p id="af50">Maybe she’ll even change before then?</p><p id="cf47">Maybe she’ll do us a solid favor and seek help.</p><p id="52b0">Probably not.</p><p id="2880">But I can hope.</p><p id="b85b"><i>Want to learn more? Share, follow, or comment on this article to keep the conversation going!</i></p><p id="afb3"><i>Hi! I am Lindsay, a speech pathologist. I write about life, mindfulness, my career, and financial literacy. I’m here to share my knowledge, experiences, and insights with you

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What Do I Do When My Mom Dies?

How am I to manage the contents of her hoarder house?

Photo by Greta Schölderle Möller on Unsplash

Yes, I have a brother to help, but neither of us is truly prepared for the hoard.

I lie awake at night dreading that day—the embarrassment of having to hire a dumpster.

The hours of shuffling through papers to decide what’s important and irrelevant.

What about the filth?

I’m scared to know what’s under the boxes of Christmas ornaments. What’s in the garage in the rafters? There are tons of blankets, I don’t want to imagine the gross mess the mice created.

I ask myself the same questions over and over:

  • Why would my mother do this to us?
  • Why won’t she clean?
  • Why won’t she let us help now?
  • Why won’t she hire someone to help?

The obvious answer, she has a mental illness. None of her decisions related to hoarding are rooted in logic. The hoard obviously means something to her.

  • Is it power?
  • Is it the success of being able to purchase items she couldn’t as a young, poor child?
  • Is it from memories with my Dad? I’m not sure about that since she was able to give away most of his clothing within the months following his death. That was surprising.

I'm not a therapist, so I have no idea what happens in her head.

All I know is that it affects me, my happiness, and my relationship with her.

I don’t want to go in the house. I don’t want to be amongst the stuff that keeps me up at night, the nightmare awaiting me one day. The financial burden we will face.

It makes me want to avoid her. It makes me disappointed in how she allowed this to happen. I’m embarrassed I grew up this way.

I guess I won’t know what to do until that inevitable day comes.

Maybe she’ll even change before then?

Maybe she’ll do us a solid favor and seek help.

Probably not.

But I can hope.

Want to learn more? Share, follow, or comment on this article to keep the conversation going!

Hi! I am Lindsay, a speech pathologist. I write about life, mindfulness, my career, and financial literacy. I’m here to share my knowledge, experiences, and insights with you. Want to see more stories on your feed? Follow me!

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Life
Relationships
Mental Health
Illumination
Life Lessons
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