sigh.

so, i've writen here about my grandparents before. and how difficult they can be. well, the oldest of their 5 kids, my uncle kenny, came to visit friday for a week. he doesn't have the strongest of relationships with them, but he's a pretty peace-lovin' guy. shouldn't have been a problem.

well it's now 2:30 in the AM, and he just called. told my mom it was horrible, worst ever, and that he gathered his stuff and walked to a nearby 7-11, where my grandpa followed him and insisted he get in the car. took him to the airport. he called my mom because, of course, it's tucson and the entire airport is shut down at this time of night.

i know absolutely nothing other than that. but it's shitty and i can't sleep, despite the nasty cold i'm verging on and all the nyquil i've ingested. i really don't even know that i want to know what happened. or things that were said. it's hard enough to have them living as close as they do...and get away with seeing them as little as i do.

my grandparents are not horrible people. i know that impression probably comes across. they're definitely a product of their [narrow minded] generation. they're a product of years of my grandmother's bitterness towards challenges life has thrown at her. but they're not horrible.

i also know that my grammy told kenny tonight that my mom has long thought he suffered from some mental illness. she's never meant that in a hateful way, it's just been based off of comparisons to my brother. and i can't say as i disagree with her. but lord...must she really verbalize that to him? come on now.

we'll see what happens.