Although my mother and I were successful at resolving life issues, my surviving siblings have their own lives to sort out.
When I arrived in L.A., the house had pretty much been ransacked and emptied by my brother and brother-in-law, eager to rid the world of that mess, and to get the house on the market.
My mother expressly did not want a funeral, so there was only a small "observation" as her ashes were interred (I was not there for that). There was virtually nothing to indicate a life had concluded there at my childhood home. I set about to create a small memorial...many of the neighbors wondered what had happened to her (she took two walks a day and was known for those walks).
My sister appreciated the memorial, and also my sensitivity to the ransacking. It turned out she and I became closer allies in the scheme of things. She thoughtfully took a picture of the memorial and forwarded it to me after my return to Virginia.
The house sold in one week, and the money was divided among us.