My grandmother is dividing her assets while she's still alive. She hopes it will help our family avoid divisiveness later.

We’ve all heard stories of familial feud after a loved one passes and assets are divided.

Verbal promises become null and void once the person who made the pledge is gone — or perhaps those promises were never made to begin with.

And even words written into legal wills can spark arguments and resentment for years to come.

To avoid family upheaval after her future passing, my now-95-year-old grandmother took matters into her own hands.

About 13 years ago, my grandparents moved into a retirement community.

As they packed up their home, they sorted through belongings, selling furniture and giving away items they no longer had space for.

My brother took a large, green antique lamp, and my husband and I took an ottoman that converted into a small bed.

They were tiny reminders of a home my brother and I grew up in alongside our own.

A few years later, my grandfather passed away after a drawn-out battle with Alzheimer’s.

Then, before her 90th birthday, my grandmother invited our family over in an attempt to prevent future confusion or fighting over her possessions.

My kids, parents, brother, aunt, uncle, and cousins poured into her two-bedroom apartment to fulfill her wishes. “Tell me what you want,” she said. “I’ll put a sticky note on the back with your name on it.” I was hesitant to respond.

My grandmother was my second mother, always stepping in during my childhood when needed.

When my mom caught chickenpox from me at 33 and was laid up in bed, my grandmother came over to apply my makeup before a dance recital.

She cared for my brother and me for a week while my parents were away when I was in 6th grade, and she was present at every orchestra concert and commencement ceremony.

A ceramic bowl or sectional sofa could never replace her.

Putting my name on the back of a vase couldn’t ease the idea that my grandmother was getting older.

And it certainly can’t replace grief with happiness when she’s gone.

But it was what she wanted. “It will make me happy to know this work is done,” she said. “I don’t want any fighting when I’m gone.” In her younger years, my grandmother was a watercolorist.

Her walls are covered with her personal artwork, capturing strokes of her paintbrush from long ago. “I’d love this one,” my mom said, pointing to a rustic painting of a barn.

If I didn’t speak up, I wouldn’t have a piece of my grandmother on the walls of my house when I need it most.

There is no better way to feel someone’s presence than through something they created themselves. “I want this one,” I said, pointing to the painting of a young girl, one my grandmother and I always joked was me.

That day, my name was written on a sticky note stuck to the backs of two of her paintings and on various other belongings.

It left me with a feeling of discomfort, but I told her, “I don’t want them for a very long time.” For the next couple of hours — and even over the next few years — sticky notes with our names were added onto the back of every painting and the bottom of every belonging in her apartment.

Even my 14- and 11-year-old boys have chosen an item from her home.

When a sprinkling of sticky notes appeared throughout her floors, she moved our names and items onto a list on paper.

I’m unsure where the paper is or if we’ll be able to find it when the time comes.

But my grandmother made sure we took time to choose the pieces of her that we’d like to remember her by.

She gave herself peace of mind by starting a conversation most never have, and I’m so glad she did.

One day, when I can’t visit with my grandmother or hear her voice on the other end of the line, I’ll have her paintings on the walls of my home.

Bits and pieces of her will be sprinkled throughout my house, and if I’m lucky, there just may be a sticky note hiding on the back with my name on it.

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