Here's the lowdown: I think I might want to kill his father. This isn't about my cuz at all. We're the same age, Dave and me. We grew up together to some extent. My grandparents - Nana and Johnny - used to drive me out to Indiana every year (2-day trip each way) for 10-14 days visiting him and my uncle [Ron] and my aunt. Dave's a good guy. And so were his parents. At one point, at least. This is about my uncle [Ron]. He's the 3rd of my grandmother's 4 children. He's the father of my (single child like me) cousin Dave, who's just about to come in and visit, new wife included. Long story short, my uncle wrote a letter 2 years ago. It was a scathing letter detailing the personal and financial shortcomings of myself and my mother, and it was written (in numbered copies) to all 4 of my grandmother's kids (yes, including himself). None of these feelings had ever been aired by him, or anyone, before. Not by a longshot. My mother raised me alone with zero help from my dad. My grandmother's other two children besides my mom and my Dickfuck Uncle [Ron], are a successful/stable nurse and a successful/stable architecht. My uncle [Ron] is a successful physicist, married to a successful radiologist. That leaves my mom, the fourth child, who was a waitress her whole life. Am I wrong in assuming that my mom is the natural inheritor of my grandmother's paltry, ridiculously old-fashioned, lower middle class home? Especially considering the other 3 of my grandmother's kids are doing perfectly fine, and, in this cunt shithead Uncle's case, fine and then some? Not that the matter had ever been discussed before. My grandmother and I and my mom have had, at least since I was born 30 years ago, the closest relationship out of anyone in the family. We always show up and leave together at family functions. We're in the same shitty tax bracket. She sat for me all the time while my mom was working the dinner shift. We're on the closest of terms, closest by a lot. But out of nowhere, Uncle Cock Ass From Indiana, suddenly decides out of absolutely fucking nowhere that he ought to be able to add to his millions with one quarter (1/4 for each of the four children) of the 60k we're expecting to get from my grandmother's house when she dies. So he writes this absolutely lunatic, very long, very volatile letter, and sends it to everyone. A few points about grams. 1) She's not even fucking dead yet. 2) She's quite possibly the most decent person who ever lived. 3) There was never any drama, in the entire family, before now. 4) He Broke her heart. He accused my mom and me of evilly taking advantage of my grandmother, which is not even close to the truth. The simple economics of bank statements proves that one. And he used the most offensive and abrasive words imaginable, blaming my grandmother for how she 'made herself a victim' by allowing it to happen. It's this last one - him breaking her heart - which is the reason I am almost sure I will kill him if he ever comes around here again. I don't care if he's in his 60s. My grandmother's a very simple person. Her life was defined by precisely two things. One is the tragic death of her husband in the war. The other is her humble attempt to raise her four kids to be the most decent people they possibly could be. And now I have to deal with this man's son who I haven't seen or talked to in 10 years. The son of a man I once wrote a high school essay on wisdom about. A guy I don't have a problem with, other than with who his dad is. This is really difficult since I don't think I can sit in the same room with a person whose Father I know I would kill if he were the one visiting.