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That's pretty sad Psycho Dad. Your brother's attitude is incomprehensible to me.
I am surprised to see how many of us go through this kind of problem.
I am not one to be totally intransigent generally, but a few years ago I had a falling out with some family.
I am not on speaking terms with my two half-brothers. They are a good deal older than me. When I was little and they visited my house to see my dad, I was always very excited to see them, because I had always wanted siblings. They couldn't give two shits about me. As I got older, I became more indifferent. Why should I care if they didn't? So we'd meet and be polite, but I felt nothing.
When my father passed away they were total assholes and did some nasty things to my mom and I, to get a hold of my dad's supposed assets. In the end it bit them in the ass because all they got was their share of his debts to pay. They offended my mother and I and I have no desire to be in contact with them ever again. They never cared about me when he was alive, so why would I want 'that', whatever it was, back now?
Worst part is, my father's side of the family is in contact with them and treats them as if they were on equal footing as me. They behaved very badly and it makes me angry that my father's family skim over that and try and keep contact with us all. I know it's an irrational anger, but I can't help it. When my father was alive, they wouldn't see him for months, then when they came around, they'd get money out of him. Total shits.
As it is, this rift has caused to me to have little to no contact with my father's family. I doubt this will ever be resolved. But I feel that I have closure. They were nasty and I have no need of them, never have.
My mom's side of the family keeps me sane.
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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.
Fernando Pessoa, 1918
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