You know, after Patricia died and I started going through all our stuff, I realized something that caught me completely off guard. It wasn't just our house that was cluttered – my phone and computer were just as bad. I'm talking about following probably 300+ people on Facebook, getting notifications all day long, scrolling through stuff that honestly just made me feel worse about everything.
I mean, here I was trying to simplify my physical life, getting rid of forty years of accumulated junk, and meanwhile my phone was buzzing every five minutes with updates from people I barely remembered from high school or random pages I'd liked years ago. Made no sense.
The wake-up call came about eight months after Patricia passed. I was sitting in my big empty house, scrolling through Facebook at 2 AM (couldn't sleep much those days), and I realized I'd been looking at the same garbage for an hour. Political arguments, people complaining about their dinner, ads for stuff I didn't need… it was like digital hoarding, honestly. Just as bad as keeping boxes of old Christmas decorations I'd never use again.
My daughter Jennifer had been after me to "get off social media" entirely, but that seemed extreme. I actually liked staying connected with some folks, especially after moving to the condo. What I needed was the same approach I'd taken with the house – keep what mattered, ditch the rest.
So I did what any accountant would do. I made a spreadsheet. Seriously. Went through every single person and page I was following and asked myself: Does this add value to my day? Do I actually care about updates from this person? Is this making me feel better or worse?
Turns out about 80% of what I was following fell into the "why am I seeing this?" category. People from Patricia's work I'd never really talked to. Random recipe pages (I eat mostly frozen dinners these days anyway). News sources that just made me angry. Pages about golf equipment when I'd already sold my clubs.
The unfriending process was… well, it felt rude at first. Like I was rejecting people. But then I remembered what the estate sale lady told me when I felt guilty about selling Patricia's china set that nobody wanted: "Keeping things out of obligation doesn't honor anyone's memory." Same logic applied here.
Started with the obvious ones – unfollowed all the political stuff (nothing but arguments), the random business pages, accounts that only posted complaints or drama. Then got more selective. Kept close family, a few old friends who actually posted meaningful updates, some local community groups that were genuinely helpful.
The difference was immediate. Instead of scrolling through 50 posts to find one worth reading, suddenly my feed was maybe 10-15 posts from people I actually cared about. I could check Facebook in five minutes instead of losing an hour to mindless scrolling.
But here's what really surprised me – I started engaging more, not less. When you're not overwhelmed by digital noise, you actually have energy to comment on your granddaughter's soccer photos or congratulate a friend on their retirement. Quality over quantity, same principle I'd applied to everything else.
Set up specific times for checking social media too. Once in the morning with coffee, maybe once in the evening. Turned off all the notifications except for direct messages. My phone stopped being this constant source of interruption and went back to being a tool I controlled instead of the other way around.
The mental health benefits were huge. I hadn't realized how much that constant stream of other people's highlight reels was affecting my mood, especially while I was grieving. Seeing everyone else's perfect vacations and family gatherings when I was eating dinner alone… it wasn't helpful. Curating my feed to focus on genuine connections made social media feel supportive instead of depressing.
Applied the same logic to email subscriptions. Unsubscribed from probably 40 different retailers, news sites, organizations I'd signed up for over the years. Now I get maybe 5-10 emails a day instead of 50, and they're actually relevant to my current life.
Even cleaned up my phone itself. Deleted apps I never used, organized photos (still working on that project – forty years of pictures is no joke), got rid of games I'd downloaded and forgotten about. It's like <a href="https://clearhomeclearmind.com/digital-minimalism-declutter-your-online-world-for-peace/">decluttering your house</a> but for your devices.
The key insight was treating digital stuff the same way I treated physical possessions. Every app, every subscription, every person you follow is taking up space – maybe not physical space, but mental space, attention space. If it's not adding value to your life, why keep it?
My kids were skeptical at first. "Dad's on some minimalism kick," my son probably told his wife. But when they saw how much calmer I seemed, how I wasn't constantly distracted by my phone during visits, they got it. Jennifer even asked for advice on cleaning up her own social media.
It's not about becoming a hermit or rejecting technology. I still use Facebook to stay connected with family, still check email, still look things up online. But I do it intentionally now instead of as a mindless habit. Big difference.
The hardest part was dealing with Patricia's digital presence. Her Facebook account, email, photos stored on our shared computer. Had to decide what to preserve, what to download, what to let go. Eventually deactivated her social media accounts but kept her email archived with important photos and documents. Another form of digital estate planning that nobody talks about but everyone should think about.
Now my digital life matches my physical life – simple, intentional, focused on what actually matters. When I check Facebook, I see updates from people I genuinely care about. When I get an email, it's usually something I need to see. My phone enhances my life instead of overwhelming it.
For other folks going through similar transitions – whether it's loss, retirement, or just feeling overwhelmed by digital clutter – start small. Pick one platform and spend fifteen minutes unfollowing accounts that don't add value. Turn off notifications you don't need. Unsubscribe from email lists that just create digital junk mail.
It's the same process as decluttering your house, really. Keep what serves a purpose or brings joy, get rid of the rest. Your future self will thank you, and your family won't have to sort through your digital mess later. At 67, that matters more than staying connected to every person I've ever met online.
<a href="https://clearhomeclearmind.com/digital-minimalism-declutter-your-online-world-for-peace/"><a href="https://clearhomeclearmind.com/digital-minimalism-declutter-your-online-world-for-peace/">Digital minimalism</a></a> isn't about rejecting technology – it's about using it intentionally. Just like I didn't get rid of all my possessions, just the ones that didn't serve my current life. Same principle, different space.
Frank’s a widowed retiree from Phoenix learning that less really is more. After decades of accumulation, he’s simplified his home and his life—sharing real stories about grief, gratitude, and living lighter in retirement without losing what matters
