To see if I am the asshole in this situation, I have to go back quite a bit. First, regarding the family dynamics: the conflict is between my paternal uncle, his daughter (my cousin), and my grandfather (his father). My own father passed away a few years ago, which leaves my uncle as the sole heir. My uncle owns his own company and a house. My cousin moved out, lives with her boyfriend, and works as a real estate agent. On the other hand, I live with my single mother and our dog in a two-room apartment. She works as a cleaner and earns enough to live, while I am finishing my A-levels and also work part-time as a cleaner.
My mother and I were very close to my grandfather. Despite our tight financial situation we visited him very frequently. Naturally, he often gave us a bit of money back as a gift. However, our gas and hotel costs were always higher than what he gave us. That never bothered us, though, because we just wanted to see him smile. We knew he was old, had many health issues, and didn't have much time left. He knew this himself, told me so, and said he didn't want to spend his final days alone, but preferably surrounded by family.
Because of this, my mother and I decided we wanted to move in with him. He was overjoyed and wanted this as well. So, my mother and I put in the effort to find an apartment big enough for us all, since a frail old man could easily get hurt in a small space like ours, and we were living in a old housing with many loud children. However, my uncle interfered, convincing me that we were incapable of taking care of him because he was a care-dependent case with dementia who needed professional help. I was 17 at the time, an adult in many people's eyes, but in hindsight, I realize how naive and easily manipulated I was.
Back then, I agreed with my uncle, but shortly after, my mother persuaded me otherwise, leaving me caught in the middle. My mother and uncle never got along; our family history is complicated and tangled. Eventually, my mother threatened my uncle with the police if he continued to "harass" me regarding my grandfather. He stopped writing to me, and my cousin, with whom I used to have a very close relationship, cut all contact and called me a gold digger.
After that, we thought we could live with my grandfather. However, he changed his mind, saying that everything he knew and needed was where he currently lived. He argued that finding new doctors near us would be too difficult or impossible. This back-and-forth went on for a long time; we tried many times to convince him to move closer to us. Considering he had lived alone for 15 years miles away from all of us in the very apartment where the love of his life had passed away. Despite his dementia, he never forgot her. Every time I visited, he constantly told me stories about his time with her and how they met, over and over again. I'm no saint; of course, it got on my nerves to hear the exact same thing on a continuous loop. But I never said a word and always pretended it was my first time hearing it, because it made him happy. Perhaps that subconscious attachment to his home was why he never wanted to leave.
A few months ago, we stopped pushing for it, after years of trying. Naturally, we never stopped visiting him whenever we could. A few weeks ago, we got an uneasy feeling because we hadn't heard from him in a while. Normally, despite his dementia, he would call once a month, but this time he didn't. I was worried, so I called his number, only to get an automated message saying the line was no longer active.
So, I called the local café where he went for breakfast every morning. They hadn't seen my grandfather for a week either and were worried. So my mother and I agreed to drive down to look for him as soon as we got our next paycheck.
A few days ago, I received a card from my uncle. The moment I saw it, I knew my grandfather had passed away, otherwise, he would never have contacted me, as he and my cousin hadn't spoken to us in two years. It was true: my grandfather had died, and I was being invited to his funeral. He passed away during the exact week I called the café, but I was only informed via letter three days ago. On top of that, the funeral is already this Friday. Both my mother and I loved my grandfather deeply, but my mother loved him most of all. He was the only one there for us when we moved back and had to rebuild our lives from scratch after my father died. Yet, my mother was not invited to the funeral, only I was.
Now, I find myself backed into a corner. After a long discussion, I have decided not to go to my grandfather's funeral. The only people attending are those who would not welcome us. The exclusion of my mother is a major reason why I refuse to go, they don't want my her there, even though they know how much she meant to him. We decided that we owe nobody anything and don't need to attend a ceremony to demonstrate our love for my grandfather. Unlike the others, we showed him our love while he was still alive. Above all, we refuse to put ourselves in a position to be degraded at a funeral by my father's side of the family, who already view us as gold diggers.
At first, I was torn because I am not as strong-willed as my mother. I kept asking myself: "What will others think of me and my decision? Will they think even worse of us? Will they call us gold diggers? Does this go against the morals and principles that most people consider correct?" As I mentioned, I am easily influenced. Nevertheless, my mother and I agreed that I will not go to this funeral. Instead, we will honor my grandfather in our own way. Next week, we will drive down together, visit his grave privately, and pay our respects in peace. He knows that we loved him, and that is all that matters, between us and him.
So, tell me: Am I the asshole for choosing not to attend my grandfather's funeral?