An added complication of being in the UK I hadn't expected

Funerals are for the living.  They are there to help us with our grief.  The dead are no longer worried.  You have to make the decision to do whatever you need to for yourself. I don't mean to sound selfish, I mean to do whatever it takes for you to grieve.

I've found that the funerals I've attended have never properly honoured the person they're for.  The ones I've been to have been shockingly impersonal and "ceremonial", and not a comfort at all.  I am kind of glad I had the excuse of the distance and the immigration issues to avoid my father's.

I spent two years travelling in Europe before meeting DH.

At the tail end of my trip, my grandpa wasn't doing well. We knew I was cutting it close with my return flight (bought six months earlier) but I kept in close touch with my dad and got regular updates.

I landing in the US, was back home for less than 24 hours and on the 5-hour drive down to see him in the hospital we got a call from my grandma saying he'd passed.

In a way, that was best - I never saw him in the hospital or suffering (besides going a bit crazy in his old age, but never physically in pain).

He was a great laugh and our whole family has a good sense of humour so his funeral was basically stand-up comedy night with a sombre tone.

After the service, I joked my dad had a cry gun and with each memory he mentioned, he'd take a shot and get one family member to cry. We had two understudies for each family member who was going to say something in case they were too welled up to get it out.

There was definitely more laughter or cry-laughter than actual sad crying that day and I'm sure that's what he would have wanted.

My best friend fought a terminal illness but when it became evident that the time was fast approaching when she would die she moved closer to her sister, who lived the other end of the country.  Not far by American standards, but still away.  She planned her own funeral (!) and we had the opportunity to discuss end of life choices.  I told her I would not be attending her funeral and she was perfectly happy with that.  I knew that certain people around her would be using it for theatrics.  A few weeks after the funeral I went to the graveside with flowers and said my own goodbye.

Meanwhile, I come from an Irish background and so our funerals tend to be filled with lots of laughter (and alcohol) as well as tears. 

One of the hardest parts of moving to the UK for me was knowing I most likely will never see my mom again. Saving for FLR and ILR and citizenship is difficult enough without paying for hugely expensive trips back to visit a parent who refused to come to my wedding and has disowned me.

But as someone who has spent time volunteering in hospice, I can tell you that the advice above is sound. Sometimes your loved ones will wait until you're out of the room to die because they want to spare you that moment.       And sometimes, like with my mom, there's no hope for reconciliation.

I'm glad you were able to go back to see your mom. And for anyone else in a similar situation...it's so hard. But you can only do what you can do. <3