Sympathy

My sister's writing about our mother has been much on my mind lately.  I think in particular about what she wrote:

I would also like to believe that her (our mother's) words came from a place that contains no malice, no ill-will, but from that crevice where we lack easy access to other words, to words of sympathy, words of understanding. I would like to think that I have the fortitude to withstand these words without suffering too many bruises.

While I don't always agree with my mother, I do not see her as someone who treats her children with malice.  Yet, my sister's words lingered in my mind and I began to wonder if this is the way she views the world, if the world always seems threatening, harmful to her.  

Sympathy is a double-edged sword.  I fear to sympathize with my sister.  When we were in contact still and I tried to understand her position, to convey some sense of giving due consideration to her, my goodwill was often twisted back upon me.  

To give an example: prior to the big argument that felled our relationship, we had been in the midst of discussing a potential family trip -- my sister, me, and our parents.  However, given how strained our relationship was growing, I finally wrote to my sister that I didn't think I could go.  I suggested to her, thinking it might please her, that she might consider taking her boyfriend along so that the nonreturnable plane ticket wouldn't be wasted.  She responded back in email in angry words about my presumption to suggest such a thing.

Yet, this was when we were in contact.  I am no longer in contact with her yet I fear to sympathize with her, even if such sympathy would not be communicated to her.  Why is that?  Do I fear to understand her?  Would that take away my anger?  Would it take away from my justification for anger?

If I felt pity for her, without being in contact with her, would that cost me so much?  Reading about the malice she imagines my mother might feel for her, I do feel badly for my sister.  Her mind sees only harm.  It seems like such a suffocating way of existing.  Is pity so hard?  

For those who read this and are in a similar situation, can you offer some thoughts?  I would appreciate any reflection on what sympathy means in a relationship with a narcissist.