Guilt trip

Tonight, Chris and I are leaving for our Thanksgiving trip to Budapest and Hungary. We booked this trip with miles way back in February and solidified our accommodations shortly after, so I think fate worked out when my dad’s surgery happened to be about two weeks ahead of this trip. It allowed me to come home, take care of my dad and be a comfort to my mom, and also still go on this trip. However, my mom wasn’t too thrilled when she found out we were taking a European vacation just three days after I left San Francisco to go back to New York. “I really don’t think you should be going so far away with your father like this. But you clearly have made up your mind and have made your decision, so I hope you have a good time and be safe.” That’s my mother’s very polite but jagged way of saying, you’re selfish for taking a trip to Europe while I have to “suffer” taking care of your father every day.

To be completely rational, my dad is progressing amazingly well and can do almost everything by himself now, with the exception of bathing or climbing hills or running marathons. He’s barred from driving for at least six to eight weeks. But other than that, he is doing well for his stage of recovery. Because of this, I don’t feel bad that I’m going on this trip, but my mom wants to perceive and treat him like an invalid who needs to have eyes on him 24/7. In addition, I’m still going to call home from Austria and Hungary, so it’s not like we won’t be connected. I felt guilty for about a second, and then I realized it’s just her way of manipulating me to say all these things. Then, I downed two drinks at the lounge and boarded our flight.

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