When my dad died, I didn't even cry. I had finally seen him for the narcissistic manipulator that he really was and lost love and respect for the guy. When my mom died, it was the opposite. I am still trying to cope, years later. She was just as narcissistic, but the difference was, in her later years she started to realize what she had done wrong and tried to fix it. She put forth the effort. I love her for that. I will always wish the good part could have lasted much, much longer.