Musty, your kids are gone. The one that isn't legally isolated from you wants nothing to do with you. You've acted so crazy, the rest your family apparently feels the same way. When you die, all the garbage you chose to keep over your children will languish in your falling down shack until the house gets bulldozed by the city when people complain about the rats and meth heads squatting in it. There isn't a situation where anything in your house ends up on Antiques Roadshow.