Shelley came back Monday night to find out from the answering machine. She then called me, but I told her to go away and cry and we'd talk later. I got a phonecall at work from her, on Tuesday, and I said I'd go to the funeral home tomorrow. I called her in the evening and she ran through her plans/obit, and said I didn't sound enthusiastic -- I blurted out that I was pissed off at her brother for not keeping in touch. She said it was her nieces, not her bother, but let bygones be bygones, and I growled, "I'm trying." I've thought about it A WHOLE LOT and I'm pissed because I have MS and it was 91 degrees and they made a situation where I either had to go up there and suffer dire and permanent injury to my health, or risk my father dying alone. So they took off and my father died alone and I will never, never feel good about this ever for the rest of my life. I should've gone.