Naomi Hsu ~ Swedish Death Cleaning

We were at the mall in Palo Alto, the nicer one, look­ing at the Prada bag dis­play, and that was when you told me about the new book you read, The Art of Swedish Death Cleaning, a method of declut­ter­ing your home to lessen the bur­den on your loved ones after you’ve passed, and that was when I real­ized you were nev­er real­ly think­ing about shop­ping at all, and you were nev­er real­ly going to buy the Prada purse, and you were nev­er real­ly here for girls’ night, for the both of us, just for me.

When Ah Gong was sick, you flew over to Taiwan and sat by his hos­pi­tal bed, and when he passed away, you called me and told me to stay healthy, and when I hand­ed the phone to Dad, you asked if he was cook­ing the veg­eta­bles, and when you came back, I saw you read­ing that stu­pid book, and now, I want to know what you were think­ing when your wood­en slip­pers clicked on Ah Gong’s office floor and your fin­gers grazed his leather note­book and your eyes stag­gered through the pho­tos, to know how in the world you must’ve felt about your dad for you to believe that, when you die, I’d be grate­ful you didn’t buy the Prada purse.

Buy all the nice bags in the world; the clutch, the tote, the duf­fel. Don’t think of clean­ing, don’t think of lim­it­ing, don’t start your death ear­ly and slow. Think of the spring col­lec­tion, think of girls’ night, think of fin­gers laced. Think of hold­ing onto me.
~
Naomi Hsu is a writer from the Bay Area who has been pub­lished in Apprentice Writer, Eunoia Review, and Blue Marble Review. She is a 2024 YoungArts win­ner and Iowa Young Writers’ Studio alum­na.