Friday, 11.24.2017 - 5:09 pm.
I told my parents I wasn't coming to visit them for the holidays, and instead I'd be there in January. I sent them a message on WhatsApp, on the family group. My dad replies a few minutes later, showing surprise and a bit of disappointment.
Three minutes later, he writes again, saying his elder brother has died. I start to laugh, to laugh, I tell you, because of course I couldn't make a decision of distancing from my parents without life throwing in an additional bit for me to feel guilty. "Oh, so you're not going for the holidays...such sad news for your sick parents to hear, on top your dad losing his closest brother to cancer".
I'll spare the description of the utter misery that followed after that. The day after my uncle's passing, I called my parents. Most of the guilt comes from myself, really. My mom and dad were exhausted after my uncle's wake, and my dad had a fever that made him skip his funeral, but they still managed to say they were happy about me staying with Andrew, they understood he was my family too and he needed me the most. January is looking good, anyway, so hopefully that'll make up for me putting off my holiday trip.
I have a list of things to write so I'll go do that. The list includes my forthnightly column for the London Latin American magazine (I have no idea what I'll talk about), a bunch of Simeon comic strips (no one reads them, but if you ask me, they're on fire), and, oh, I have to revise those two very short stories I want to submit to the university's creative writing magazine. I don't think they'll be chosen for publication, they may find that the language is too basic. I do like the stories themselves though. It's worth a try.