It goes like this: my grandmother was not a nice person. In fact, she was a likely candidate for the title of Most Likely To Become A Bride Of Satan. She made life extremely difficult for her two daughters, her son, and by extension, myself. In fact, it's widely agreed upon in my family (or at least, the ones I'm on speaking terms with) that she was a strong contributor to my mother's emotional breakdown and subsequent paranoid schizophrenia. Because of this, and other reasons, I was not on speaking terms with her at the time of her death, nor did I attend her funeral, even though many did and she was interested in seeing me before she died.
So, now we come to my dilemma: how much of an insensitive, heartless prig have I been? One part of me says that my behavior was justifiable, the other says that I'm not as forgiving, or even as basically decent, as I should be. What makes it worse is my own lack of feeling about her death, which only confuses me more.
