Full Heart and an Empty Cupboard

Today I worked with a young person navigating one of life’s heaviest transitions—losing the only parent who raised them. In just three and a half hours, we emptied two enormous built-in cupboards that had held decades of living.

We got stuck right in and forgot to take a picture before emptying the first cupboard, but it doesn’t take away from the satisfaction we both felt at the end of the process.

Ten bin trips. One huge load to fabric recycling. Three bags of old electronics. Countless donations to charity. Almost nothing left in the cupboards.

But the day wasn’t heavy. We laughed a lot. We talked. They told me about their parent—their care, skill, passions. They’re keeping many of his things, especially the ones that carry his essence. There’s more sorting to do, but today was a beginning. A clearing.

It’s not just grief. It’s also gratitude. Excitement. A fresh chapter in a flat that’s fully hers now.

When we finished, we hugged. She thanked me, but the honour was mine—to be trusted in such a tender, transitional moment.

Decluttering isn’t just about stuff. It’s about space—for memories, for healing, and for what comes next.