I wasn’t happy, hell no. I would probably feel extremely bad if any of my parents died. I would probably describe my pain in a poetic manner too – which that would tell those who know me that something was wrong.

But I didn’t comment in her Facebook status. I just… didn’t feel anything for their loss.

My aunt, my dead aunt now, was the oldest of my mom’s family. My grandfather died in October 28, 1988 (I remember this date because sometimes the family thinks this event triggered something on my moms mental health) and we all thought the first one to die after him was going to be my grandmother. Surprisingly (and thankfully) she has not yet. My grandmother is still kicking at 96 years old and still in great spirit and more lucid than my husband and me combined. We certainly didn’t think my aunt – or any of my mom’s brothers or sisters – would die before her.

I questioned (I actually stopped after a week) my family’s reactions towards her death. Some cousins who have lived in US for almost a decade and weren’t in touch with her expressed words, I mean paragraphs, to sympathized with them, with their pain. This feels unnatural to me. And I can’t stop thinking if there’s something wrong with me. Who wouldn’t want at least to try express at least a sentence of sympathy or something in that line?

The last memory I have of her (and sadly it wasn’t pleasant) is when I was a teenager, with weight fluctuations every year, my aunt came to town for a visit and the very first thing she said as she saw me was “ay mija (sweetie), you are looking a little chubby.” And as with any other teenager that is already obsessing about her weight, these words were just the catalyst to one of many anxiety moments. I felt embarrassed. I felt exposed. I felt vulnerable. She made me feel bad about my self and I was too young to know how to not let that happen. I didn’t want to see her or let her see me again and I started to hide under big oversized baggie T-shirts.

It’s been almost two decades since the last time I saw her. And I don’t think her last words to me are the reason I haven’t expressed any sadness towards her death. I think deep down I have detached too much from my family to not let sad events hurt me. I think my mind have found a defence mechanism to numb my feelings and it’s going to an extreme. It’s still shitty. But I’m being honest.

If it wasn’t because someone left a comment on my cousin status I wouldn’t have found out that my aunt died. I guess social media isn’t bad after all.