You feel guilty, but have nothing to feel guilty about. WHATEVER you did, you'd feel you should have done more.
When my mother died (massive heart attack, dead before she hit the paving slabs). My brother was going to visit her that afternoon. My sister was in the mammys house waiting for her to come back from mass. And I who lived 200 miles away, was going up the following weekend. And we all felt guilty.
At least she had the perfect Irishwomans death. Walking back from mass, soul all nicely scrubbed up and shiny.
My father had already had the perfect Irishmans death. Stood at the bar. Pint in one hand, ciggy in the other. Massive heart attack. Dead before he hit the floor. AND it was his round next. It was how he'd have wanted to go.
Qjs