“Autumn seems to me like a human life that slowly withers and matures for eternity.”

– Aunt Lisa

In 2013, Franz began to feel unwell and went to see a doctor for what he thought would be a routine checkup. He had recently retired and was looking forward to quieter days. Instead, he left the hospital with the diagnosis of an aggressive cancer and only a few months to live.

From that moment on, time seemed to contract. His health declined quickly, while daily life continued in small, ordinary gestures. Franz met the reality of his illness with quiet acceptance.

In the weeks that followed, Hübner stayed close to his uncle and family. He watched a man once known for his physical strength grow fragile, his body slowly withdrawing. The camera became a way to remain present — to sit beside him, to listen, to notice light moving across familiar rooms, hands resting on blankets, pauses between conversations.

Onkel Franz observes a family moving through loss together. It traces moments of care and closeness, of waiting and letting go. Rather than seeking answers, the work remains with what is left behind: shared silence, fleeting tenderness, and the quiet resilience of those who accompany someone at the end of life.

“Autumn seems to me like a human life that slowly withers and matures for eternity.”

– Aunt Lisa