My Grandmother

My Grandmother died on Tuesday afternoon.  She had been in the hospital a couple weeks ago.  Last Monday, my Dad signed the paperwork for hospice.  She had wanted to die at home rather than in a hospital or nursing home.  Tuesday, she was moved home.
A few people have visited.  She's been on morphine, and of course sleeping most of the time.
She passed around 4:15 on Tuesday.  The funeral is Saturday.
I feel bad for my Dad who has so much paperwork to resolve now.  One of his sisters is mentally handicapped, and the other sister will get the guardianship.  It's just never as easy as it should be.
I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.  She lived about five miles from us.  We saw her and Grandpa on a regular basis.  However, they were never interested in attending my cousins' and my concerts and ballgames.  Peggy had to be taken care of.  We were told over and over that it wouldn't be right to take Peggy out of the house - people would stare.  I'm as self conscious as the next person, but at a certain point it's their problem and people deal with it every day.  Anyway when we went over there, I was the good little girl who sat with her hands folded in her lap and waited to be spoken to.  No one ever spoke to me.  So we weren't close.  In fact, I occasionally heard remarks that anyone who knows me would never say or rather I got cards addressed to me in ways I don't spell my name.  I try to be okay with it.  I know I was spoiled on my Mom's side.  OTOH and at the same time, really?  I mean really - how much can you expect to miss someone who never made an effort to be there?