My mother was an alcoholic who also had, I believe, narcissistic personality disorder. The last time I visited my mother, I was there for several days. When I was leaving to go to the airport, the very last thing she said to me gave me to understand that she expected to die in the very near future. There was no opportunity to process this news, or speak with her about it.

After her death, I felt nothing. No grief. In retrospect, I had no idea what grief actually was until my father died, years later.

I do not regret or miss the opportunity to speak with her in a personal way before her death, nor do I treasure my last times with her or anything along those lines. I am sorry that this is how things were, but to my feelings and mind, those were just one more thing to endure in dealing with her.