Do you remember when everyone was talking about the phenomenon of “Swedish death cleaning” a few years ago?
Suddenly it became a viral trend to declutter, sort, and organize your home in preparation for your own death — or simply to bring a little more order into your life.
Now that winter is slowly loosening its grip, perhaps this year’s spring cleaning could be given a little extra thought — and a deeper meaning? Let’s revive death cleaning.
Cleaning After Someone Else — and Cleaning for Yourself
To death-clean — to empty an apartment or house after someone has passed away — is not only an emotional trial, it can also be physically exhausting to sort through and discard a home someone has built over a lifetime.
But death cleaning itself is actually an old ritual here in Sweden, reaching far back in time.
But death cleaning itself is actually an old ritual here in Sweden, reaching far back in time.
Often, it was the women who did this — first death-cleaning after their late husbands, and then cleaning in preparation for their own passing. A widow knew how demanding it was, both for the body and the soul, and wanted to make things easier for whoever would one day handle her estate.
Death Cleaning Is an Act of Care — for Yourself and for Those You Leave Behind
You don’t have to wait until the end feels near. Anyone can death-clean at any time in life.
Yes, it will make things a little easier for those who one day sort through what you leave behind — but why not also gift yourself the experience of living in a home without those things that simply… exist?
The things that always seem to be in the way.
That get moved from place to place without ever really finding a home.
Or that sit forgotten in basements and attics because you haven’t had the time or energy to donate, sell, or throw them away.
Your “Clutter” Might Be Someone Else’s Treasure
It can be tempting to gather everything you’ve decided to part with and simply take it to the dump. Quick, easy — done.
But what if someone else would love to read those books, listen to those records, repaint that dresser, reupholster that armchair, or tailor that coat?
Just because you no longer see value in an object doesn’t mean it couldn’t be given a second life with someone else.
After my aunt cleared out her storage space, I received a moving box filled with well-loved old young adult novels for my eleventh birthday. It remains one of the finest gifts I have ever received — without question.
The Journey Is the Destination — One Thing at a Time
The idea isn’t to go through everything in one weekend. Let it take the time it needs.
Some items are easy: “Throw away.”, “Sell.”, “Donate.”,“Keep.”
Other things require a little time. Especially items you may not have seen in years.
The goal is to remove what no longer has — or perhaps never had — a purpose or value in your home. Things that could disappear without you even noticing. Perhaps it might even feel like a relief.
Keep what serves you in daily life, what makes you happy, and what makes your home feel like yours.
If it feels easier, you can start with digital death cleaning.
Sort through files and photos on your computer or phone.
Or break it down even further — begin with old messages or your contact list.
Would you like more practical advice on how to approach this? Then I have the book for you!
The Book That Revived Death Cleaning
The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson
Book blurb:
Death cleaning: sorting, decluttering, and organizing a person’s belongings. Originally done in preparation for death, but in everyday language also something we do to create order in life — to find the junk that can be discarded, the sentimental items worth keeping, and the true treasures.
In this warm, moving, and refreshingly honest book, Margareta Magnusson writes about the journey of going through everything one has accumulated over a lifetime.
The book contains many helpful tips and thoughtful reflections on how to tackle such a project without it becoming overwhelming — either physically or emotionally. Highly recommended!
On March 12, 2026, Margareta Magnusson passed away.
Thank you for a fantastic book that will help generations of people and their descendants.
Rest in peace Margareta! 🖤
I remember so clearly standing in my aunt’s apartment. So many things. Where do you even begin?
A round of death cleaning beforehand would have made things so much easier for me as the one left behind.
Right now, I’m slowly going through my own cupboards and drawers at home.
Even though I don’t see these things every day, it still feels good to clear out what no longer belongs here.
Have you tried death cleaning? Would you consider giving it a chance?
A short story with Quinley & Herrow
Who are Quinley and Herrow?
In Coffinfolk Café’s stand alone short stories, you’ll meet two most unlikely friends:
Quinley – Coffinfolk’s café host. A young woman who loves life just as much as she loves exploring the cultural heritage of death and sharing advice, information, and insights that can help people – whether they are facing their own encounter with Death or living with grief.
Herrow – Death himself. He may look frightening in his black cloak, but beneath the bones is a kind soul who enjoys a cup of coffee and sharing experiences gathered from every corner of time.
You can find a longer introduction + a short story about their first meeting HERE
“Forgotten Treasures”
Narrated by Quinley
When I stepped over the threshold, I was met not only by the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon buns.
A small mountain of things was scattered across the floor, one of the sofas, and the coffin we use as a coffee table. Most of the clutter looked familiar, and I knew exactly where it had come from — the storage room.
Herrow sat in one of the other sofas, watching as Harley emptied the storage space. The Reaper nodded in greeting and took a sip from his coffee cup.
“If I’d known it was time for spring cleaning, I would’ve come in earlier to help.” I draped my coat over the sofa beside Herrow. Harley emerged carrying yet another box in his arms.
“It wasn’t exactly planned, but the options were either to put up an avalanche warning… or clean it out properly. The printer’s on strike — so here we are.” Harley swept his hand across the chaos.
“We’re death-cleaning,” Herrow chimed in. “You’re cleaning. I’m Death. Death cleaning.”
“It would be awful if you had to dig one of us out from under all this if things went really wrong,” Harley snickered, setting down another box from the depths.
“Exactly. This is good for all of us.” Herrow stretched with a satisfied sigh, followed by a series of clicking sounds from his spine.
It was unbelievable how we had managed to fit so many things into such a small room. I had to agree with Harley — every time you opened the door, it felt like there was a genuine risk of collapse.
Emptying it was like traveling through time. First came our café things, and further in we found a couple of forgotten, dust-covered boxes that must have been left behind by the previous owner. Or perhaps even the one before that.
“What was this place before you moved in?” I crouched beside one of the boxes, picking at a piece of tape that had started to peel at the corner.
“A hat shop. I think they were milliners too.” Harley poked his head out wearing what looked like a dark blue fedora. “What do you think?”
“Very dashing.” I found a pair of scissors and opened the box. It was filled to the brim with… buttons.
Large, small, colorful, plain, round, square — I even found a few shaped like tiny dogs. Another box was packed with rolls of lace and silk ribbon.
“Well, there you go. There must have been a seamstress working here at some point too. I think this area used to be full of craftsmen and creative souls.” Harley set the old hatbox down on the sofa beside Herrow.
Once we put our own things back in, it wasn’t just easier to find what we needed — it was no longer life-threatening to step inside.
“What should we do with all this? It feels wrong to throw away such lovely things.” Harley slung an arm around the shoulders of a dress form that had nearly scared the life out of us when we found it tucked away in a dark corner.
“I was going to suggest a yardsale, but it feels strange to charge money for things we didn’t even know we had.”
“You have a good heart.” Harley nodded with a smile. “If we rearrange the bookshelves over there, we can put everything up. If a guest finds something they can use, they can take it home.”
While Harley and I prepared the shelf for the donated items, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Herrow had fetched paper and a pen from behind the counter.
A little while later, he came over and showed us the sign he’d made:
Found & Reawakened
Give a home to something that survived the storage room.
Word spread quickly, and it didn’t take many days before everything had found a new home.
Herrow, of course, had a far better memory than us mortals, so he was quick to point out other treasures that hadn’t yet made it onto the shelves.
It was such a joy to see how happy people became when they found a button they had been searching for forever, or a lace trim that was no longer sold, so they could mend an old curtain, tablecloth, or bedspread they had inherited.
The dress form now lives with a young man who sews clothes from old vintage patterns, and many of the millinery tools went home with another man. They were to become a wedding gift for his wife.
The only thing no one wanted was a small box of buttons with visible imperfections. They were wooden, most likely handmade. Perhaps someone had saved their early attempts while learning the craft.
I sewed them onto a canvas in the shape of a skull. It now hangs on the wall inside the café.
It fits perfectly there. Imperfect and a little worn at the edges — like all of us.