Putin, William Shatner and my mum got me thinking about the end of humanity, and it turns out I’m fine with that | Van Badham

My mother was told she had two months to live.

At the time of her illness, I raced to Australia to be with her. At the same time world events have weathered all of us, the doctors have given up on therapy for her. I was able to get to my mother's house in time to be able to stay with her for the duration of the epidemic. During her stay on the cancer ward, mom caught coronaviruses. My partner and I were trapped at home with the wretched virus after catching it.

My mother, who was born in 1941 at the bleakest point of the second world war, has lived to see the end of the British empire and Mussolini's return to power. The Cuban missile crisis took place a few weeks before the mother's 21st birthday. The tyrant of Russia is raining missiles at civilians and threatening nuclear attack, while the US president warned that the consequences of a Russian nuke is Armageddon.

After spending 16 months in the shadow of my mother's death, I feel ready for it. If the missiles fall or the radioactive winds blow, she could outlive us all by a few minutes.

This is a positive sign. I am amazed by it. The battles against cancer cells, epidemics, dictators and dickheads seem an awful lot of trouble to go to for a species that is just as desperate to encourage them. I don't know if my cynicism is situational or inherent. I saw too much of myself as a child of the cold war.

The more time you spend on a cancer ward, in a doctor's office or with a community nurse managing the care of someone you love, the less your own cynicism or fear matters. My mother's treatments were adjusted by the same doctor who gave her two months to live. Experts don't think there's a high chance of Putin unleashing the means of his own destruction. It is impractical and self-indulgent to ignore the facts.

I have the most profound gratitude for the circumstances that allowed me to care for my mother for this long period of time and reconcile to her death. William Shatner described his recent trip into space as a funeral on the internet. The actor from Star Trek said that it was one of the strongest feelings he had ever experienced. The coldness of space and the warmth of Earth made me sad.

I think the resonance of the quote is related to Shatner's confrontation with the fragility of precious, singular, finite life on Earth. The warm, nurturing places represented by our closest relationships are our most meaningful orientation.

Cells change, missiles fall, and an authoritarian Russian leader has control of a nuclear arsenal. Any one of us may only have a few minutes to live. I will never regret spending my time in the service of the people I adore.