On dead neighbours

I got an unexpected phonecall yesterday. My neighbour of the past 3 and a bit years, Wally, passed away in the early hours. No warning, no expectations, he'd had an aneurysm in his stomach, and apparently died whilst having surgery.
Now I'm going to be honest here. Wally and I were friends until about 18 months ago, then he decided he didn't like my cats. Apparently they were doing their business in his garden, something he later admitted he was wrong about. The problem was the way he dealt with it. Afterwards I said I wouldn't ignore him, I'd still be civil and say hello, but I wouldn't do him any favours. The saying "Don't shit on your own doorstep and then expect your house not to stink" rang true. His grandson would play with John up until this unfortunate incident, his wife would give us her home baking results. If I'm honest, I'd like to go to the funeral. The problem is I'd feel a bit hypocritical, and for his wife's sake I shall stay away so that people don't get offended. The really sad thing is his wife is less then mobile. I can't see a way she'll be able to stay on her own, so his sudden and untimely death is going to affect her life in more ways then one. In the meantime I can offer what I feel is hollow assistance, but life will go on.