Guilt is bad

About 20 years ago a friend of mine, Phoebe, tried to reeducate me about guilt. She too had been raised as a Catholic, but for whatever reason, the whole complex and easily triggered, guilt-induced behaviors were not as ingrained as in me.
Twenty years on, I am still trying to not feel so much guilt or induce it in others. It is so easy to do though... and behavior that is so hard to change. I couldn't resist sending a gentle, guilt-ridden email to my siblings yesterday. They had all been busy this past week, and I figured at the weekend they might get a moment to check their email. By Saturday morning their time, I had received three emails and two phone calls. Apparently, my siblings also have a trigger reaction to guilt (despite claims to the contrary from Gambling Boy that he is immune, and complaints from Lovebug and GoGo Girl).
They all have a point. Pops has only been gone a week, and most of them wouldn't normally see him midweek. They all spent quality time with him before he left. However, what they forget is that he is a big pampered child. When he gets a bit of attention, he just wants more. Plus, it is a big change from hanging out with the army, and living here in the small bungalow with the detective that gives him grief and the weather that makes his bones ache.
It was a successful social experiment. I promised I won't send more guilt-inducing emails or write any more posts in such a vein. (This one doesn't count by the way.)

Yesterday morning I went for a walk in Phoenix Park. It was cold and windy so I went to the tea shop by the zoo and had a latte (Pops was still sleeping at the time). While huddled inside the shop with my hands wrapped around the warm mug, I eavesdropped on a family that had met up there for a late breakfast. The mother was in her 60s or 70s and her son was trying to accommodate her as well as treat everyone. He had arrived by bike and may possibly have been out to the pub the previous evening. He was patient with her though. "Would you like a scone, mum?" "No, no, I couldn't. Well, unless you ate half of it."
"What would you like?" "Oh, I don't know... I'll just wait till Jim gets here." This went on for a while. I could almost hear the son's wife counting to ten in her head. I'm pretty sure she sighed at one point. Jim finally arrived, whoever he was--possibly a family friend or the mother's brother. Everyone else ordered in a straightforward manner. Eventually the mother had tea and a sandwich.
I was almost expecting the mother to ask the staff to turn off the lights so she could sit in the dark while everyone else was enjoying themselves.