Pops died of lung and brain cancer a few days before Thanksgiving this year, 67.
I was part of his hospice care, it was 5 months on the dot for his 4-6month prognosis. Fucked to say but we were blessed; it only got truly bad at the very end, and it went fast. Still, seeing him like that definitely changed me permanently.
I feel so incredibly bad for my mom. She did everything with him. She has her family and her social network, lots of support, but when the strong facade falls she talks about how she doesn't know what to do with herself any more.
I know there's that panic that happens in the wake of a husbands' death, but now she is desperate to get out of the apartment they shared. She came into money after the death of one of her siblings and can afford to walk into any house she desires. Problem is, soon as he died she rounded on me and proposed we live together/she buy a duplex. What a blessing to get a free house, is the idea. Problem is, we would have zero say in what she selects, and then...I'm back to living with my mom, especially if it turns out the way I expect where all duplexes are so astronomically overpriced that we end up having to move into together.
I love my mom, and seeing her feel so alone is breaking my fucking heart, but I feel a lot of anger and resentment towards my dad. He knew what he was doing; when I was a kid he would go on melancholic drunk tirades about he was going to die before her and that it was going to be my responsibility to take care of her. Now that we've arrived at that point I realize all those moments where she went 'when he's gone I'll live 6 months with you and 6 months with your sister' was for real, at least in her head. My sister has offered to put an addition on her house, but nope. She wants it to be me and her.
I feel awful. I feel like a piece of shit for resenting the fact that I can't take care of her from a remove, that for her it requires me being around every day to stave off her loneliness. It's not that she's a hard person to live with, I just have an insane aversion to the feeling of being manipulated by money or objects to do what my family 'expects' of me. My uncles and others have been picking at me here and there when I see them to figure out why I'm not going in on this cohabitation idea, but the truth is a selfish and shitty one. My dad dies early, and potentially for the next 20+ years I'm stuck where I'm living and can't move on because of it. I never wanted to stay here, and she refuses to go anywhere else, literally- she wouldn't even move out of the city we're currently in. We had plans and ambitions and now because he died I'm looking down the barrel of my father's choices dictating how the rest of my life goes for a decade or two.
Don't know what to do, but I know the 'honorable' thing of "taking care" of my mom is probably what I will be forced into. She's holding the keys to my ability to retire. Tattoo is a great career but if I'm being completely honest I missed the boat on being able to accumulate meaningful wealth on my own, and I have my own shelf-life before I won't be able to do it anymore/age out. Every single one of them- her and her siblings- have no intention of being in a nursing home. She won't be the only person requiring care. I feel really sad about it. Feel free to tell me how much of an asshole I am.