It's been a week since my father died. My brother and I went to his house. It was indescribable. Trash was 2-3 feet deep throughout. No water, electric or plumbing. Evidence of animals being in the house. Just mind-blowing that he lived like that and refused to leave when offered nicer conditions. We did find a paper telling us what he wanted done when he died and that was good and what we'd hoped for but didn't expect.

I'm just tired. I've been freezing cold for days from the stress. I am spending all my time in fleece and under piles of blankets and still cold.

I think he'll be cremated this week.

I've not cried yet. His life was really sad for a long time and there's a lot to come to terms with. It will take time.