Dead; I don’t care – McSweeney’s Internet Tendency

Seven years after my sister’s death, I found her diary in my parents’ storage room.

I had a strange feeling about this encounter, but I really wanted to read the diary. Besides, it wasn’t like my sister could just come in and catch me.

After my sister died, my parents had to vacate their apartment. I can imagine that this task felt like climbing a mountain, even though you don’t really want to climb a mountain.

My father said the apartment looked like my sister had been ripped from her life. Her cat was pacing back and forth, needing water. The sink was full of dishes. My mother found birth control under the bed (horrifying for a Catholic mother).

My sister’s unfinished business was everywhere. The whole thing was upsetting. My parents did their best to be respectful.

For years I’ve wondered: How do you respect the privacy of a dead person while packing their things?

Is watching still considered “snooping”?

When you go through a deceased person’s things, is it about the person and their feelings or about you and your feelings?

I don’t know. Probably a combination. It’s difficult to take everyone’s feelings into account.

If you have the opportunity, sometimes the best thing to do is ask.

My opinion: