HOLLY WAINWRIGHT: A life-changing list of boring questions.

If you want to support independent women's media, become a Mamamia subscriber. Get an all-access pass to everything we make, including exclusive podcasts, articles, videos and our exercise app, MOVE.How do you feel about death?

Yeah, hi, we're skipping small talk today.

In fact, let's get to it.

What are your bank account details? Phone password? Do you have a gym membership? What's the number?

Why am I asking you such invasive questions? Well, as you might already know very well, even in the face of the Great End, the "two types of people" cliche still seems to hold true.

There are the Swedish Death Cleaners, who are busy making sure everything is in order well before they go — maybe well, well before they go — downsizing, decluttering, getting things in order, making sure everyone knows what they want to happen, when the worst does. And there are the Ride On Regardless people, who don't want to talk about it, and who will live exactly the way they please until they are no longer able. And if that makes or leaves a little chaotic mess, so be it.

If you are in the painful and poignant vicinity of beloved elderly or ailing family or friends, you might recognise these camps, and you might wish the latter was the former and maybe the former was a little more the latter.

Watch: The 'brain vomit' technique for nighttime worrying. Post continues after video.

But anyway, last week, I read a Substack from someone who's very firmly in the Swedish Death Cleaning camp. Even in her early 50s.

Elise Loehnen is a writer and editor whose podcast and Substack are called Pulling The Thread. A few weeks ago, she published a post called The Most Loving Thing You Can Do, and in it she says that every August, she commits to a small ritual in memory of her late brother-in-law:

"Every year, to honour Pete's passing, I do a little bit of personal housekeeping that might strike you as morbid — but I believe it's actually the most loving thing you can do for the people you love. In August, I go through a document that is shared with my husband and my brother and I update any critical information in the event I might unexpectedly die."

Loehnen explains that Pete died suddenly, and she immediately volunteered to go be with her brother and help with the practicalities of his partner's loss. It was, she writes, an eye-opening task that made her realise if any of us had the opportunity and time to consolidate our life admin, it would make things ever-so-slightly easier for those left behind.

"You want the people you love to be able to mourn without needing to hack into your email account. You don't want your partner or siblings guessing where you might have bank accounts. Most importantly, you want to give your people the opportunity to honour you in the way you would most appreciate: Nobody wants to guess about that."

And so, Loehnen writes, on that Google Doc she keeps all the practical information — bank account details, phone passwords, the gym membership — that her family would need if something were to suddenly happen to her. And also some more personal and final things, like funeral music preferences, and what you would like to happen to you after you die.

This seems like a very good idea, and also something that the Ride On Regardless crew would hate.

The Mamamia team have put together a PDF to prompt this exercise. And if you're up for trying it, or passing it along to someone you love — you can find it here.

This conversation on Out Loud reminded me of one of my favourite episodes of the other podcast I make, MID - conversations for Gen X women. Dr Jackie Bailey is a death doula, and a writer, and many things, and I interviewed her for Season 1 of the show. And she gave me a very similar suggestion.

She said that elderly or ailing people should have a folder on the top of their fridge - and plenty of people who know where it is—not full of bank passwords, obviously, but with documents that clearly spell out their wishes for their final days and end of life. This is an Advance Care Directive or a Living Will, and there are lots of resources online to help construct those. But also, Dr Bailey told me, get really specific. There will be days, she says, and I think many of us know, when you, or your loved one, will not be able to communicate what they want for themselves.

Do you want to be touched, in that time? Do you want to be read to? If so, what? Do you want music playing? If so, what? Do you want a priest to visit you? Do you really NOT want a priest to visit you?

I know. I don't want to think about it either. Not for me, not for my people, not for my most beloved.

But what the Swedish Death Cleaners, and Loehnen in her list-writing mode, know to be true is that leaving people to guess your wishes, and to unravel your complicated little life while mourning your loss, is also impossibly difficult.

And one last thing from the wisdom of Jackie Bailey. You can't force people to change because they're nearing the end of their life. In fact, they are likely more entrenched in who they are than they've ever been. If you're pushing for plans but your loved one won't do it, you can't force them to.

But maybe, she suggested, you should do it yourself, for you, even if—if everything happens as it should—your plans will sit in a drawer or nestled in The Cloud for decades to come. Because in doing it, you'll understand just how confronting and difficult "getting your affairs in order" feels.

All love, friends. Now we've talked about death together… Back to the small talk.

Listen to our conversation on Mamamia Out Loud about Getting Your House In Order, Ready Or Not, here:

Feature Image: Instagram/@wainwrightholly.