When Healing Finds Its Way Through the Clutter

If someone had told me about a little over a year ago that I would be saying goodbye to my mother for the last time, I would have laughed, shaken my head, and walked away. There was no preparing for that moment—no way to soften the impact of holding her hands on November 6, 2024, at 11:00 a.m., and feeling them grow cold. It was, without question, the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. And yet, here I am mid-November 2025, finally able to put those words on paper without completely falling apart. 

Grief has a way of reshaping you. It slows you down, opens you up, and forces you to look at life differently. One of my siblings said recently, “It hurts so bad because we were loved SO MUCH,” and nothing has ever felt truer.  

Our mother was the phenomenal woman in our lives—my first and loudest cheerleader—who encouraged every accomplishment and reminded me constantly how proud she was. She also struggled with clutter, something I now understand more deeply through the lens of loss, trauma, and healing. 

In my work as a professional organizer, connection is everything. I never step into a client’s home just to rearrange belongings; I step into their story. Together, we talk about the weight behind the clutter—because there’s always something there:  

• Generational patterns 

• Emotional overwhelm 

• Life transitions 

• And yes, sometimes trauma 

Working through a home often means working through a heart.