Out of respect, names will be changed for privacy.
yesterday was a horrible day. My mother was the first person (who knew Tom well), to discover Tom’s dead body in his hotel room. My mother and Lisa, a friend of moms who barely knew Tom apart from the occasional light teasing they shared back and forth, searched the city for him after no one had heard from him for a week. The search lead to a small area in a bad neighborhood by two restaurants and a cheap hotel, a waitress at a restaurant he used to frequent took mother to the hotel manager and got the keys to his room, to find Tom on the floor, dead.
We think it was a suicide or drug overdose but foul play can’t be ruled out. Tom wanted to did though. When he lived with my mother a long time ago, he told her he was going to die alone. He was a troubled person. The people that cared about him he pushed away. His insecurities lead him to substance abuse, and constant lying about him and his past. He felt so strongly his life was messed up. I can understand that because I’ve been in a similar boat.
The message here though he was who he was, people still cared enough for him, an isolated man, in the worst weather in decades for hours and grieve for him.
Even a troubled, isolated person is valued and grieved for.