My mother was an abusive alcoholic my entire life. She developed fibromyalgia at 50 (unrelated to her alcoholism AFAIK), and became dependent on me for financial support and basic care. I hated her my entire life and I still hated her even though her demeanor changed to be way more tolerable as an old person in need. I still hated her because she made that change effortlessly. Being sickly and in need didn't change her outlook on life; she was the same rotten piece of shit she had always been. But since she actually needed me in order to survive, she put on a new face and instantaneously turned into a "nice" person. I hated her with every fiber of my being. She fell one day and broke her hip. It was very bad and she needed surgery. She was stuck in bed for about a month while she recuperated, then one day she got out of bed to get something for herself, fell, and broke that same hip again. She went into a delirium in the hospital. She developed some kind of systemic infection throughout her body, and her kidneys failed. She died. And. I. Couldn't. Be. Fucking. Happier. Fuck you, bitch, may you rot in hell.