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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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That is the angle I have been thinking about it. Like, is there "unfinished business"? I don't think so.

As I got older I started sharing more things about my life. In particular two things I kept secret from my parents for a long time was my regret/confusion around the sex change and my drug use. Both of those things I've talked about now, and of course they weren't as big deals as I thought they would be.

I feel a lot more upset that my father never told my grandfather I was trans so he died thinking I was still his golden grandson.

It's good to hear you don't feel bad about missing the funeral. It's not like I don't love my mom or don't care about her as a person. But if it's the end it's the end. Just before I left Germany she came to visit me in Berlin and we spent hours walking around town and going to coffee shops and just hanging out chatting about everything. It was great. I don't think anything we could do in this last little bit of time could help give better closure than that.

Also, I was glad I did not see her at the end when she was in pain and not very conscience. I much preferred my memories of her as a happy, lucid, sharp, hilarious Mom that she was.

Edited at 2019-03-05 11:47 pm (UTC)

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