he had a heart attack two weeks ago and never recovered. I'm riding down to Florida with a nightmarish coterie of my older brothers and a sister in law. Oh, and the return trip will be the coterie plus mother and Dad's ashes. How fitting that my dad,  who at his worst resembled one of the troubling fathers out of a Faulkner novel, is having a death journey straight out of a Faulkner novel, As I Lay Dying. 

Went to check on Mom's house to clean a little for her. Incomprehensible mess. Fridge was the worst. A package of unused raw meat lay half-soaked in an unusual brown liquid. A rotted tomato sat plump, stuffed with white fluffy putrid mold, creeping out around its stem. The water dispenser was covered in dark brown stains. A calcified broccoli sat lonely in an empty vegetable drawer, surrounded by brown goo. A whole egg was perfect, outside of the fridge on the floor. A necklace lay on the counter surrounded by dishes and pots from multiple meals. She is not just a hoarder; she is an artist whose Media induces vomit. A single dress shoe rested on her bathroom sink in unbelievable incomprehensible organization. She stores Raid on the counter. 

Please help me!