My Dad died in 1979 when I was in New York for a one-week visit. I stayed on another month to help my Mom who couldn't cope with the paperwork or insurance (or anything, really.) My sibling #3 brother, who was 20 at the time, didn't cry at the funeral but otherwise completely fell apart and is still unhinged to this day, but that's another story (sort of.) He just turned 45 and still lives at home with Mom. He swears he's going to get a job, and she swears she's going to sell the house and move to a senior housing community in Florida, but neither of them can make the move to get on with their life. Major co-dependency and I'm glad I'm 3000 miles away. My sister and other brother, both of whom live somewhat nearby, are at wit's end and have mostly given up trying to help. I think my mother and brother are both so afraid of being alone, much of their life stopped when Dad died.