My sister Jane died nearly 18 years ago. We were very different - arts v science, sporty v lazy and so on - and it would be a total lie if I said her death was life changing.
My parents, especially my Dad, were devastated but although I was sad for a while it never really hit me badly. I have never known why because I've been known to weep buckets at far less serious events.
I even have to think hard to remember the exact date she died. It was only recently when I found some old photos of us that I have started to wonder how things might have been different if she was still with us.
Somehow I feel I have cheated her by not missing her too badly.
Sorry Jane!