My grandmother has died

[GreyRosesAreMyFavourite]

And I don't feel any grief at all. She was a manipulative, narcissistic woman who divided family, had no friends, played favourites with young child relations. But, but, but. I wish it had been different. I wish I could mourn a loving grandmother. I didn't have any others and neither do my children as both their grandmothers died.
Ah, she was a horrible woman in so many ways. I remember her deliberately shop lifting when I was with her, in the hope I'd get caught. A warped mind definitely. Certainly had no positives to add to my life at all.

Anybody else had similar?

I do not want to go to her funeral. Is this wrong?

My nana was a racist, horrible old woman who treated her family like crap. I didn't cry when she died. I think that's fair enough.

Can I ask a question Helen. Did everyone in your family think the same?

My cousin is actually upset and claims that 'grandmother' will be sadly missed. I am left wondering wtf .

It is entirely possible extended family will treat funeral as a good excuse to have a get together

My MIL was very similar - I felt no grief at all neither did my OH. We had a small family funeral and treated it as an excuse for a get together.

GreyRoses - Not everyone felt the same, no. I was more distant from her, whereas those closer who'd had caring responsibilities in her later years felt the loss, I think. (Though some of them felt the dislike a great deal more than I had!)

I do not want to go to her funeral. Is this wrong?

No, don't go if you disliked her so much; it would be quite hypocritical

There's nothing quite like a death in the family to disclose the hypocrites in the ranks.

It is a curious phenomenon that death can transform an odious, obnoxious, churlish, joyless, friendless, curmudgeon who never had a good word to say about anyone into a character noted for their quirky eccentricity and somewhat acerbic wit merely because they have finally, and at very long last, had the decency to pop their clogs.

I once attended the funeral of a despised personage; the 3 chief mourners, all of whom he had beaten seven kinds of shit out of at various points in his life, stood at the front of the congregation. From my rear-view vantage point, I observed their heads bowed and their shoulders shaking - whether from laughter or sorrow I wasn't able to determine.

The rest of the congregation were stony faced and remained expressionless as the coffin was eventually lowered into its 6' pit. There was no wake as such; the chief mourners departed together immediately after the interment and a group of the remaining spectators, including myself, fetched up at a local hostelry.

Even before the first pint was pulled, it emerged that the reason the service was so well attended was that many had a vested interest in ensuring that the departed was, indeed, dead and gone. Had the deceased been in a position to raise the lid of his coffin, there would have a veritable stampede to sit on it and make sure he couldn't get out before a ton of earth fell on it.

I left an hour or so after the revelries got under way and I wouldn't be surprised if they continued long after closing hours on a certain newly filled in grave.

Mourn the grandmother you didn't have, Grey, and continue to feel a healthy indifference to the one you were lumbered with. Attend the funeral service or not according to your choice, but if you do decide to put in an appearance I would suggest you take along a hammer and nails just in case reports of her death are premature.

There is a poem written about just these feelings, it is called My Granmother by Elizabeth Jennings, have a look if you think this might help....

The feelings you have are normal, you can legitimately grieve the grandmother you never had.

My Grandmother....

Thank you so much everyone.

Feeling a bit blahhh about it all. Sad I didn't have any half decent grandparents. My Mother always said through our childhood that we had a rough deal and she would be the best, nicest and happiest grandmother to whatever children I had (and then she died young herself).

But this grandmother was perhaps the most evil of all my disfunctional extended family. And I am baffled as to why my cousin is posting RIPs and that she's sad. The poem is fabulous, Janajos, I've just searched and read it.

Izzy You've made me actually laugh out loud. Which when people normally post a 'lol', it's a complete LIE. But in this case, you did produce a loud giggle from me .

You're not alone, OP. And no, you don't have to go to her funeral if you don't want to.

My grandmother was also a toxic, controlling woman. She died when I had just started uni abroad, and tbh it didn't even occur to me to come home for her funeral: there was no grief I wanted to share with friends and family.

You also ask why some family members appear to genuinely grieve when a toxic person dies. One of her daughters (a childlike woman who cared for her toxic mother all her life) was genuinely sad at my GM's funeral. But then, she has remained caught in her role as the Good Daughter in the family dysfunction all her life; caught in the Fear, Obligation and Guilt; caught in the desire to believe that she had a proper, loving mother. It's not unusual.

I am sorry that this loss has caused you to face up to things and question your decision to not want to go to her funeral.

When my parents die there will be no tears. Just the opening of a bottle of fizz to celebrate the fact I no longer have to live in fear of my childrens safety.

My grandmother was vicious. Never happier than causing a massive family falling out.

She managed to upset her MIL and SILS - reconciled some years later though.

With her own sons and daughters, she would cause untold strife, favouring one grand child over another, resentful of SonILs better jobs than her own son.

her youngest daughter, my aunt, got pregnant at 15, remember this was 1959, she packed her off to an unmarried mothers home and was determined to have the resulting baby adopted. My grandfather was having none of that, so Aunt and baby came home. GM took the baby and passed it off as her own, well she told people she adopted it becasue its parents had died in a car crash and what a wonderful woman she was.

I can sort of see the stigma back in teh late 50's but when my aunt married a few years later, GM would not let her have the baby back. GM didn't want the baby either and the poor child lead an awful life really.

Another of her daughters died in 1963 leaving as 5yo and a 14mo. The husband remarried very quickly to provide a new wife. I suppose you did back then. OMG the fall out from that - she wrote letters round the family saying he'd been carring on whilst the mother was on her death bed and the like (he hadn't).

She fell out with my mother when I was 17, died when I was18, unreconciled. Really the ensuing isolation from her family started the decline in my mothers health and ultimate death 10 years later.

Toxic doesnt begin to describe her. I hope she's burning in hell for all eternity

Your cousin's most probably milking it for a shedload of attention and sympathy plus a week off work for her poor dear granny's funeral rites.

I'm fortunate in that my own late relatives are very much lamented, but I've attended a number of funeral services that have been nothing less than charades with assorted mourners trying to outdo each other in the 'wailing' stakes. When one of those is on the agenda I've learned the hard way to take ear plugs with me.

I've seen more than my fair share of jubilant grieving spouses pretending attempting to hurl themselves into the graves of their loathed loved ones after the coffins have been lowered but, oddly enough, where cremation has been the chosen method of disposal of the corpse, I've yet to see a spouse attempt to climb into the fiery furnace with the deceased.

The biggest problem when attending this type of funeral is keeping a straight face until the piss-up Wake. I had to rapidly exit one service when the cleric began extolling the virtues of the deceased and narrowly escaped being observed doubled up and convulsed in laughter behind the nearest gravestone when the coffin came out of the church

Needless to say, my experiences have concentrated my mind on my own inevitable demise ('twill be such a loss to the world). I'm currently torn between bequeathing my remains to medical science or a wicker basket, woodland setting, and a yet to be decided aria to sing me to my sleep.

Console yourself with the thought that the evil one can't do any more damage to anyone on this earth and raise a to your dear mum.