What to do when you're clearing a loved one's home

I've done a lot of estate cleanouts. They're the jobs I take most seriously, because they almost never come at a convenient time. There's grief, a deadline, and a whole house of someone's life to make decisions about. I want to be useful, so here's what I tell every family before we start.

First: you don't have to have it figured out

A lot of people call me feeling like they need to have a plan before we show up — like they need to have pre-sorted everything, or at least know what they want to keep. You don't. The only thing I need from you before we start is: walk me through the property and flag anything you want set aside. That's it. The rest is our job.

The one thing you should do first: documents and valuables

Before anything else gets touched, go through the space for paperwork, financial documents, photos, jewelry, and anything with sentimental value. These are the things that can't be replaced and can cause real problems if they disappear. If you're not able to be there, have a trusted family member do this pass. We set aside anything you flag, but we won't go through drawers looking for hidden valuables — that's your job.

What we do with the rest

Once you've flagged what stays, we work room by room. We sort every load before it goes on the truck: usable furniture and household goods go to Omaha-area nonprofits, metal and electronics get recycled, and only what genuinely can't be reused or recycled goes to the landfill. Most estate cleanouts result in a meaningful donation run.

You don't have to be there

Being present for an estate cleanout is hard for a lot of people, and that's okay. Plenty of families hand me a key or a door code, and I send photo updates as we work and call when it's done. Some families want to be there for all of it. Some want to be there for part of it and leave when it gets to be too much. Whatever works for you works for me.

How long does it take?

Most single-family homes clear in a day. Larger homes, multi-unit properties, or situations where we need to move slowly and carefully can take two. I give you a realistic window before we start — and if we find surprises (full attics, full storage units, years of accumulation), I talk to you before anything changes.

The hardest part isn't the stuff

I've heard this from almost every family I've worked with: the stuff itself isn't what's hard. It's the weight of being in that space, making those decisions, at that particular time. My job is to make the physical part disappear so you can be present for the part that matters. If there's anything I can tell you from having done this work — it's that giving things to people who need them is one of the better ways to honor what someone left behind.