in my sister's house

I'm walking around my sister's house in her absence-- there's some immense, imprecise sadness-- someone missing, dead? gone? something. there are rooms after rooms, and I'm amazed by the size of the house-- just when I think I've tapped it, I discover a staircase to an upper level. the place is full of furniture from our grandmother, and I'm a little peeved that my sister has ended up with so much of it-- but this isn't real envy-- I don't actually want any of it myself, I'm just kind of awestruck by how put-together and grown-up and stylistically coherent and large my sister's house is. she's a new mom, and I'm trying to help with the baby but don't really know what I'm doing.