To attend or not to attend?

Mixed emotions about attending my father's memorial service. I wasn't a part of his life for so many years. He made a different family with his wife of 36 years, being the grandpa to her grandchildren, my brother's children. I wasn't a part of those memories that they all will be sharing. I don't want to be in the reception line while meeting people that have been a part of my father's life and them not even knowing me. Possibly they know of me, but not know me. People wondering where did she come from? There will be pictures of that family with my father and none of me. Weird isn't it?

My son has expressed an interest in going. If he attends, than of course I will attend. There is going to be a gathering of family and friends in a parlor for an hour prior to the memorial service. That is what I want to avoid. I could just show up at 1100 when the service begins.

I didn't just wonder how I would feel when my father died over the years, I also wondered if I would attend his funeral. Before the last five years, I always thought, "Why would I?". Now, I really do not know what to do.

This sucks! I didn't attend my father's mother's funeral. She wasn't a part of my life even prior to the divorce. She wasn't a very nice person and relatives that I have ran into over the years never have anything nice to say about her. A few days before my father died, I told him he looked like his mother. He about came out of the bed with a very angry look on his face. I told him I would never say that again. He relaxed and laid back.

I always believed and still want to believe that my father rejected my sister and I because it was the only way he knew how to deal with the divorce because of the hurt. Today my brother gives me a different scenario. He states that we, my younger sister and I were a hindrance to him being able to get on with his life. My mother had always told us girls that, but I refused to believe it. My brother also told me that since my father's death he has been having discussions with his widow and she was shocked to hear that. My father had told her that our mother refused to let him take us for weekend visits. I do remember my father telling us that when we are with him it makes Lucy (not real name) feel nervous. So he was blaming her to us and blaming my mother to Lucy. My brother knew it all along. He is the oldest and stayed with our father after the divorce.

Why do people have to make life so hard on others?