A shitty decision to make is: “should I go home soon while my aunt is still in moderate health, and miss the funeral, or wait until the funeral.”. Stage IV pancreatic cancer, more or less a death sentence. She was supposed to retire this fall. Hopefully she won’t suffer too much through this. I am very disengaged from work these past couple of days because of this. The cancer/retirement timing is just awful.
Go now. Miss the funeral. You can mourn in your own way at home. You can't be with her again once she's gone. So sorry you have to make this decision. I've been there. You need to prepare yourself for when you leave from your visit. You know it will be the last time you see her, and you want to put some thought into how you want that interaction to go. Be genuine. Be honest. Be true. Honor the person by giving yourself fully to that moment. They will appreciate it, and you will carry it with you for the rest of your life. So sorry...
Thanks goobster. Appreciate the advice and well-wishes.
One last thought... when you get to see her again, the conversation can't be about what YOU are losing... your loss... your hurt. She can't do anything about that. Do not make your suffering/pain/loss an additional burden for her to carry. She needs to hear about your happy memories of her. What she has taught you that you will bring forward in your life. She doesn't want to vanish, forgotten. Spend the time with her remembering the fun, the good, the lessons she taught you. When someone is facing their demise, their visitors tend to make it about themselves... what they are losing... how their life will be worse when the person is gone. How much they will be missed. The dying person doesn't want to be burdened with that on their death bed. They want to know people will remember the good stuff... the happy stuff... and have some laughs together. That's the greatest gift you can give them.
Counterpoint: back when I was spending every weekend with psychiatrists who worked with the homeless, one of them asked the other how best to address one of her favorite patients, a stoic who had terminal cancer. The more senior of the two observed that letting the patient see her grief was the best gift she could give on the basis that we gauge our lives by the impact we have on others. Knowing others are mourning us permits us to know we are worth mourning. Being remembered for the good stuff is not the same thing as being mourned for the potential good stuff we will never contribute.