The home which my husband Brian and I shared for 25 years is not a suitable place for me to spend the rest of my life. A wooden villa built before 1870, with gardens and a pool, it is too big and expensive for me to maintain on my own. Now, almost a year since Brian died, it is time for a change. I will be very sad to leave this property but hope it can be sold to a young family who will love it as much as we did.

The prospect of moving with my two cats to a smaller, warmer, more modern house closer to the village is both exciting and daunting. Inevitably it means giving up many possessions. I don’t like the term “decluttering” because it could imply that these surplus goods are junk, which most of them are not, even if they may be too old-fashioned to have any monetary value.

William Morris said Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful. More recently, in Marie Kondo’s popular system, the key question to ask when deciding whether to keep an object is “Does it spark joy?”

With the starkly named method of Swedish Death Cleaning, older people are advised to reduce their possessions to the essentials, so as to save trouble for their survivors. That sounds very noble. But although I do try to keep my things in good order and take unwanted ones to charity shops, I am reluctant to give up those non-essentials that will continue to “spark joy” for however long I have left to live.

There are many items that I want to keep for sentimental reasons. The wooden chest from a country fair with the initials B and J on top. The picture we bought the first time we went to a London exhibition. Brian’s vast library of books on diverse subjects, and copies of all his academic publications. The jewellery that I seldom wear but reminds me of our holidays together. The footstools and cushions that my mother embroidered with cats and flowers. And the many volumes of photos …