I had an uncle just like this. He spent all his time listening to conservative AM radio, which he proudly called “hate radio”. He died of who knows what alone in his trailer in Florida and wasn’t discovered for two months because nobody gave a shit about him. My other uncle tried to rehab the trailer (which would have maybe been worth five grand) but gave up because the smell was too horrifying. My dad inherited a small bag of his belongings and the stench on those things was unimaginable.
My uncle also had very few allies left in this world, he was just the embodiment of an asshole to pretty much everyone. My dad and aunt were the only people that would even bother to try to communicate with him. Fortunate in some way, they’d talked on the phone the day before my uncle passed, and he agreed to let my dad stop by to drop off some food the next day. Meaning, he’d been dead less than 24 hours before my dad found his body. Otherwise, it very well could have been weeks or longer.
But the house? Total loss. My uncle had become a trash hoarder. Fueled by depression, but also by his beliefs that the government was tracking him (and would go through his trash if he were to set it outside). My dad and my cousin tried to locate some family memorabilia like photos and things, but they gave up. The house was literally bulldozed and the remnants hauled away, it was in such bad shape inside and out.
I had an uncle just like this. He spent all his time listening to conservative AM radio, which he proudly called “hate radio”. He died of who knows what alone in his trailer in Florida and wasn’t discovered for two months because nobody gave a shit about him. My other uncle tried to rehab the trailer (which would have maybe been worth five grand) but gave up because the smell was too horrifying. My dad inherited a small bag of his belongings and the stench on those things was unimaginable.
Oh, that’s awful.
My uncle also had very few allies left in this world, he was just the embodiment of an asshole to pretty much everyone. My dad and aunt were the only people that would even bother to try to communicate with him. Fortunate in some way, they’d talked on the phone the day before my uncle passed, and he agreed to let my dad stop by to drop off some food the next day. Meaning, he’d been dead less than 24 hours before my dad found his body. Otherwise, it very well could have been weeks or longer.
But the house? Total loss. My uncle had become a trash hoarder. Fueled by depression, but also by his beliefs that the government was tracking him (and would go through his trash if he were to set it outside). My dad and my cousin tried to locate some family memorabilia like photos and things, but they gave up. The house was literally bulldozed and the remnants hauled away, it was in such bad shape inside and out.