Cremate me. Use my ashes as fertilizer or throw them off a mountain top, whatever. Give my things away. You do not need them.
I was there as well. And then I realized I did not know shit. I still do not, but I know a little more now than I did back when I thought I knew everything, pontificating from the safety of an emotional condom.
When I was in India, in 2007, and shortly after returning, I had a couple of seemingly diametrically opposed experiences that reinforced the following for me: although on some rarefied but real level of human existence, there is really no reason to struggle, but if and when we have to ...
A child needs at least one safe haven in a world full of expected and unexpected dangers and surprises. That place should be in their own home.