It was hard. I don't think I'll ever stop wishing it might have been different. But, I do not regret burning the bridge between me and my bigoted fundamentalist evangelical MAGA immediate-kin. Sometimes, I describe it as having orphaned myself.

There was a definite period of mourning, as if they'd all died. It has been a weird dichotomy. Even after we reconciled, they still were never allowed to be part of my little immigrant family. I don't regret it.

It's deeply weird too when they die. My parents have both passed now. I still feel guilty about the ambivalence I felt at their funerals… still feel about their passing. It's hard to work up mourning for people you've already mourned.