I have some difficult relationships in my extended family. I’m guessing that too many of us can say that. Mine started nearly fifteen years ago, shortly after my marriage. It stemmed from a decision which I still feel was correct, in spite of the emotional havoc it has wreaked. We have not been able to get beyond it even yet, and the feelings have mushroomed into other issues.
If I’m honest, I can’t really say that they hate my guts. We’re too old for that. But sometimes I wish we weren’t. I wish we would have a fast and furious playground fight and get it over with. Instead, the feelings simmer on low heat. Most of the time they’re on the back burner, but sometimes (especially holidays) they boil over.