A strange day

A day about mortality and its consequences. 
Probably near 10 years ago, I'm not sure exactly, my uncle Ken died. He was my mother's younger brother and they were very close. Ken had one son, my cousin David. Due to a dispute concerning a second wife and compounded by an incompetent solicitor, David didn't receive what was due to him in the will until this year. There had also been a sum of £2000 left to my mother. Unfortunately she never knew of this as she died in 2016. As next of kin the money came down to me and I decided it should go to my sons, which I think would have pleased their grandmother. I experienced the incompetence of the aforementioned solicitor when the process was delayed for another 2 months after she sent the request for payment details to the wrong email address. 
Anyway all sorted and I was just in the process of phoning one of my sons with the news when a letter dropped through the front door. While MrsW carried on talking to our son I absently opened a letter which I recognised immediately as coming from my brother in Catalonia. Expecting his usual philosophical ramblings (it runs in the family) I found myself holding a small scrap of paper which read. "This is the shortest and hardest letter I have ever written. Judy died yesterday". Judy is was his partner of nearly 45 years. I could make out from the frank on the letter that it had been posted last Monday 5th. 
My brother is, in modern parlance, very much 'off grid'. He does not do computers. He has a phone but getting through to it is extremely difficult as he lives in such an isolated rural area. I sent a text but I don't know if it has reached him and am not sure of his ability to text back . So I have to write a letter and of course that can't be posted until Monday. 
If it were not for Covid I would get the next plane over although I'd be loathe to do that without speaking to him first. It's rather like living in the 19th century, things cannot be hurried.