Who gets your stuff when you die?

         Probably the wrong people, if you don’t do something about it. You’re not getting any younger you know, and you don’t want your last thoughts to be about your belongings.

         “Beep. Beep. Beep,” says the heart monitor. Someone leans over you.

         “Look, he’s trying to say something. What is it, darling?”

         The doctor looks concerned. “Save your strength, Son. Don’t talk.”

         “Give my Grateful Dead tapes to… to… ack.”

          “Eeeeeeeeeeee,” says the heart monitor.

         “I wonder if he loved me.”

         Whoa, that’s sad. Considering all the time and energy we devote to accumulating all that really important and valuable stuff, it seems like it’d be worth the advance work of making sure it all gets into the hands of those who might appreciate it most. Some folks say “I’m not going to care when I’m dead, so why bother,” but that’s kind of like saying “I only do nice things for people when I’m around to get credit for it.”

         For years, my mother and her friend Sue have been buying each other pink flamingo gifts, despite the fact that neither wants them. “Joke’s over,” they say, and call a truce, which lasts maybe a year before somebody is tempted by a pink flamingo tree ornament or air freshener. In preparing their wills, I have a feeling that the fate of those gifts is specifically addressed. One of them is going to get the last bird, er, word.

         Married people have it easy. Just turn it all over to the spouse. They’ll know that your brother always coveted your surfboard, and that your sewing machine actually belongs to your friend Naomi. But for single folks like me, it’s not so easy. Dividing all my stuff (I just moved, so I’m well aware of how much stuff I have) among my friends and family is a daunting task. Last time I did it was over twenty years ago, but I don’t think that my old housemate wants my turntable any more.

         I’ve tried redoing the list several times. I always run out of steam because I go into too much detail and get either tired or depressed. If you’re allocating individual photos or condiments, you’ve gone too far.

         The hardest stuff to place is in the “odd, weird, or cool” category. Not everybody would appreciate them. Figuring out who could best use a Pee-Wee Herman doll, a plaster casting of my face, or a velvet last supper tapestry is hard work. Then I think of people like my pal Morgani, the costumed accordion player. He’s got dozens of outfits and instruments. Flash forward a few generations. Will they still exist, and who will have them? Proper estate planning will be key. 

          Making the list is good, but you can use it for evil too. Once people know that you’ve got post-mortem instructions, you can leverage it to your benefit. Be mysterious about your finances and always act casual about money, as if you’re a closet trust-funder. If somebody says, “Ooh, I love that painting,” you can imply that you’ll put them on the list. From then on they’re going to be nicer to you, or at least pretend to be. If they make you mad, you can say “You’re out of my will!”

         Sometimes it can feel divisive and hurtful to divvy up the goods among many deserving recipients. In this case, consider putting into place rules that sort out the whole business after you’re gone. A trivia contest might be fun. Just leave behind a bunch of questions, and they can make a game show out of it. Whoever remembers the trauma you suffered in third grade gets the salad spinner!

         Or maybe you could just have all the stuff auctioned off after the funeral, with the money going to the charity of your choice. Be sure to have them do it right after the service, while the sentimental value is at an all-time high.

         Personally, I’m drawn to a lottery plan when it comes to valuable items that several people might want. If I’m hit by a bus, my Bridget Henry print goes to Katy. If it’s the plague that does me in, it goes to Mark. Shark attack? Bruce.

         It may seem macabre to think about your own death, and of course scary. But dealing with scary things head on helps to defuse the fear. So why not deal with it instead of pretending it won’t happen? Put some thought into your death. You only get one shot at it.