I came here to note my ex-husband’s passing, which was a week ago Sunday, barely ten days ago. Actually he likely died the day before, but 10 days ago is when he was found. Found during a welfare check called in by my eldest daughter, after his neighbors found me, looking for her. After his only living brother had reached out to her because my ex had not shown up where expected.
He was found in a horrifying packed house that would make most hoarders shudder. He had lived there for over 25 years, alone since our daughters went away to college and never looked back. They had long since lived with only me, since they were old enough to take a stand.
Over the 15 years we were married he was a pack rat, and had packed our garage with his purchases. When he finally moved out, I set a deadline before I would empty it. He slowly filled the house he eventually bought, which became merely dysfunctional in my daughters’ middle school years. In the last decade and half it became derelict warehouse, full of some things of value, as well a mind-numbing nightmare of of piles of paper, non-functional appliances, nearly 2000 square feet that obscured windows, a barely discernible path from one room to another. He apparently ate and slept in a couple dozen of those square feet. A nightmare for my girls to try to address, from thousands of miles away, with my help.
What I didn’t realize, since I don’t post here all that often, is that my last post was about him. About my realization regarding his anger at not being able to control me. Well, I guess he showed us. He went down the rabbit hole and didn’t come out until he died. I hadn’t spoken to him since 2015, but met his neighbors when I went to secure the house for the girls. They were fond of him, as he had evolved into the sociable eccentric outside of his house. They tried to help him, but no one was allowed in his house, and he wouldn’t let anyone help him.
He had clearly descended into madness. He had a great pension, and did not lack for money. He just wouldn’t/couldn’t clean it up. He kept collecting and crammed it in to his house, a garage that collapsed, two non operational cars on the property.
In the end, he exerted control by not letting go of anything, until there was no room to move, nothing functioning, and he died among his “stuff.”
My poor daughters are left quite literally with his mess to clean up. It will take months to get it remedied and the house sold.
His neighbors were relieved when I showed up to help secure the property, begin the process on their behalf. They were glad to find out that sane people were going to address the blight on the block. My ex had to die for them to get some relief.
It is both angering and pathetic. If he hadn’t left so much damage in his wake, if he was a stranger to me, it might have saddened me.
As it is, it is a bit haunting. The man I married over 40 years ago died well before my ex husband did.
When I wrote my prior post, in Sept of 2021, I had no idea I would be writing of his death within months.
I am glad I had that clarity, then. It helps me better understand what is almost incomprehensible.
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