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my mom will die in australia
singapore sunset
I just got another long email from one of my aunts with the line: "It is sad that we have to tell you that A has only a short time left to live." Apparently it is 2 months max. Mom will be in hospital for a couple days then will go into hospice. Clearly, she will not be able to move back to Europe as she intended.

I hope this doesn't mean i have to go back to fucking Australia. I don't know if my aunts are trying to guilt me into going back or if they legitimately just want to let me know what's up... I don't care. I am super fucking busy at work right now and there is lots of stuff I haven't posted about here (yet) that is leaving me extremely stressed out. Plus my company is American, which means they only give 2 weeks vacation every year and 0 weeks anything else (bereavement leave, family leave, sick leave etc).

Am i shit for not wanting to use my pitiful vacation allotment flying to a country that i hate just to either sit in a hospice or go to a funeral or both? That will literally make me want to kill myself.

My mom says she's happy with the life that she had, and i hope she is. She resented her job as much as i resent mine. The one thing she did different is she got her ass out and enjoyed the weekends, which is something i rarely do any more. So i might be projecting if i think the world screwed her out of happiness.

Then again, it doesn't really matter what she thinks if she only has weeks to live anyways. Not like she can turn it all around.

I'm exhausted. I didn't sleep properly last night partly because of work shit and partly because i don't know why. I just want to spend some time enjoying my new apartment, looking at the mountain, learning how to cook on an induction stove, reading some books, practicing my Chinese, all that stuff that makes me happy. Fuck work. Fuck family. I'm so tired.

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What was her job? Sounds like you didn’t get on much. It has crossed my mind that I might outlive my Australian sister, who has no spouse or family there. I think she’d forgive me for not going to visit her when she’s dead.

She worked her way up from lecturer and prof to associate dean at a university. Although the hours were theoretically good (work at home time and semester breaks), she was always stressed. I think she is a lot like me - always wanting to make sure things are running the very best and not settling for a half-ass job. It's probably a self-inflicted form of stress that will happen no matter what job you do.

I really love her a lot actually, and when we do talk we always have really long, great conversations. But we don't talk often, maybe once every few months. That's still more than I talk to most of my friends.

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