Oh, I've just found this thread.
Sadly, I never really knew my grandparents. My dad's mum I met (mad Northern Irish lady!!), but the rest were dead before I was born, except my mum's mum, who died the day I learned to walk.
Her last words were "Oh. Hello, Eric. Have you come to get me?". Eric was her husband.
I lost my darling daddy in November 2004, and I feel your pain.
I thought there was something wrong with me when he died, as I couldn't cry. But as I had to take over all the admin (Jeez, how much paperwork is there to do when somebody dies, and don't solicitors take all your money?), and I kept telling people that I couldn't cry.
Come the funeral, as soon as I sat down and opened the Order Of Service, I went.
Friends told me after that they were glad when they saw my shoulders heaving.
The guy in charge of the funeral was a friend from the (Dorset) village mum and dad live(d) in. We were talking afterwards, outside the crematorium, and I was going on about the ridiculous amount of money spent on flowers.
He said he'd been to funerals where there were "at least" £2,000 worth of flowers.
What an ridiculous waste.
Some are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.
The rest of us are a bit crap.