His death, and what it brought on.

It was a good day to start with, I went through my regular repetitive schedule, shop, clean, feed the family, clean more. When I took a moment to relax I got a phone call.
"Hello?"
"Lewis is dead, his heart stopped." He said through heart broken tears over his lost younger brother.
"...What happened?"
"Tiny (Lewis' son) went in there to get him for dinner and..." He kept choking on his words as he cried.
*Moment of silence as I was shocked at what he told me, I listened to him crying, I pictured in my head what he must have looked like there holding the phone crying. Then I imagined the body of his now dead brother, laying on the bed, eyes closed like he was sleeping.*
"I hope he went painlessly...I'm sorry Paul."
"I have to call some other people, Ill call you back later, Bye."
"....Goodbye."

I felt horrible for not crying like he was. My father cried, when my brother arrived from home, he was crying, Ashley looked sad but that was probably because Chris was.
I was the one who had to pretend to be cheerful and happy for them, to make them feel better.
I did the usual "He is probably in a better place" line, but then again my belief system differs from theirs.
I havnt cried, Ive just thought about it, "How can he be dead, I saw him last month, if not sooner...He has three kids...they are probably sad, poor Heather, I hope she will be ok she is already depressed now add her fathers death to the bunch of things to be sad about."
Does anything I think matter though?
No.
Does it help any?
No
Does it bring people back from the grave?
No.
They are looking at me like im a heartless bitch, because I didnt cry.