John’s mom passed away earlier this month. Her condition had been up and down since the start of the year, but more recently, we noticed a gradual decline with increased confusion, physician weakness, and many hours of sleeping. The kids were all with her, and I have the deepest gratitude that she felt truly loved.

The days that followed were an a absolute blur– between making funeral arrangements and clearing out her apartment. It was a weird feeling thinking back to when this all started: she suffered a minor stroke five years ago and then everything just cascaded from there.

I will say, John’s parents never made things easy. They fought the changes every step of the way and even until the end, they denied what was so clear and apparent to everyone else. Then again, maybe none of that should come as a surprise: denial seems to be a common theme among the aged, even as they lose their capacities, mobility, and clarity.

A friend lamented how sad and tragic it was that the people who knew us “from the very beginning” are now gone. I had never really thought of it that way, but later, I read a similar statement.

Do my parents know me? I’ve never felt like my parents truly saw me. But maybe they do, and I can’t admit it bc what else could I use to explain the decades of conflict and fighting? I have always been amazed by the heart of John’s family. No matter the disagreements, the unkind words, the frustration, etc. there is a durability and enduring quality that everyone values. In the end, love and duty is unshakeable– it’s accepted without fuss or resistance.

Mom E’s passing was not completely void of discomfort through the final days, but her family was there, all on the same page about treatment and care. Whenever discomfort was observed, adjustments were made. And in the end, she was surrounded by love and she passed peacefully.

I’ve always been confused by the whole process that ensues following a death. I mean, who wants to make decisions and create programs and deliver speeches after losing someone they love? In so many ways, it seems like added stress during an already difficult time. But a friend of mine who grew up Catholic, offered this very interesting perspective: in a time a grief, the funeral and arrangements allow people to channel their sadness into doing something. And bc the services typically follow a set sequence or pattern, mourners have a way to go through the stages of grief. Her explanation actually made sense! Bc others had passed previously, many of the funeral home details were repeated. Then, the agenda and party afterwards brought people together to reflect and share their memories. True to my friend’s words, the send off was surprisingly consoling.

And if you think about it, every culture has some kind of ritual or tradition that celebrates and honors death.

Whenever I go home and witness how John and his siblings treat his parents, I fall into this pathetic pit, feeling sorry that my parents got the raw end of the stick.

But my friend N explained that the two families and relationships simply cannot be compared. Like I’ve written about before: everyone did their best with what they knew at the time. Certainly, the immigrant experience is powerful, as it brings in so many strong, cultural forces… and maybe she’s right. I feel like many of my ABC friends also struggle with their relationships with their parents. There’s an odd disconnect and distance that just can’t be bridged. And the way N explained it, some things I may never be able to verbalize and say to my parents. But that’s exactly where John comes in: bc he just doesn’t have the same history and baggage that’s so deeply ingrained, he can deliver the message. And she’s right.

For example, every time we make the case for my parents to move to California, I get so angry and annoyed by their resistance, which to me, is strictly based on money and the high cost of living. It conjures so many feelings about how they just hoard the money… and for what?

To me, the point of money is to make your life more comfortable and enjoyable. But no, every time I go home, dad gives a run down of all the places they eat and the cost of a Filet O’Fish at McDonald’s vs the rice bowl at Chipotle vs the chicken sandwich at Chick-Fil-A. Look, I’m all about the deals, but we’re talking about how you want to live the rest of your life! You already worked your butt off for decades. You did that to have security and stability. But now you’ve lost sight of the ultimate goal. You have security and stability. Now the focus should be about enjoyment. I dunno. I’m probably just imposing all my values and judgements onto them. I just can’t stand the constant obsession and discussion about money. Maybe that’s his success. That’s how he feels good about his life. Fine. But there were sacrifices and consequences to maintaining that level of focus… None of those are ever acknowledged or addressed. I just get the same bullshit story told over and over again about how when dad was a kid, he told his dad (my grandfather) money was not that important and no one needed that much money to live… but now, he sees that money can do a lot of things.

Yes. Yes, it can. But still, it’s not THE most important thing. And frankly, humans are ridiculously adaptable. You can still live and thrive while not being wealthy. Anyway, I can’t stand when he preaches that bullshit over and over. It’s like he’s re-validating his choices or wants us to say he’s right.

I’m telling you: this is just one example of the lifetime of nagging. It never fucking ends… Lily, blow your nose this way. Pick up your feet when you walk. Swing your arms wider to get bigger range of movement. Don’t eat the bread…

It is constant. Partly, dad just sees himself as a teacher and he’s sharing knowledge. But, the thing is, not everyone feels the need to learn something 24/7 and optimize every goddamn aspect of their life! Some people want to be left alone to enjoy shit the way they want to enjoy.

It just gets under my skin. No wonder there’s nothing to ever talk about. At this point, nearly all my energy goes into trying not to flip out. I could say so many things back but shit, who’s gonna argue with a 73 year old man? I just bite my tongue and shut up. After all, what’s the use in pointing out the shitty relationships with his kids, the awkward dynamics with friends and families when he always insists on paying for everything all the damn time…

I know his intention is good: he’s very generous, but at the end of the day, most people do not want to be a mooch or to be beholden. People want to contribute their portion bc they value fairness and equity. Anyway… I just don’t say anything and we try to do something else like go for a walk or play mahjong. In that sense, I try my best to be like John and his siblings. But goddam, it nearly kills me to bite my tongue.