My husband hasn't spoken to his parents since a huge fiasco that started with his father punching me in the face. My husband and father got in a fistfight. Cops were involved, and my inlaws committed perjury in court, accused us of breaking in (we had a key and were invited), and tried to talk the DA into dropping the assault charges on my father in law in favor of prosecuting -me- for 'attempted murder'. My mother in law called my husband 237 times in one day, texted him an obscene amount of insane messages, and wrote him a three page letter about how he needed to divorce me because I was going to murder him someday. To top it off, the monster-in-law started harrassing our friends that she could find numbers for, to the point that they had to change their numbers, and one of them even -moved-. The last time we heard from them was a few years ago, when my father in law ran into a girl he knew we used to hang out with all the time, and asked her to tell my husband that his mother had died. He had a party when he was told. -My- family, on the other hand, (excepting one uncle that I'm sad I can't find contact info for) is a group of the most conniving, backstabbing people you'd ever find. Not perjury material, but close. When my mother died, they came to see her in the hospital, and the majority of the conversation had to do with how horrible of a job I must have been doing taking care of her, because I hadn't super-hero'ed away her brain cancer. When my husband and I moved to California to try and find work, and help take care of my grandmother, who had severe late-stage dementia and alzheimers, the family who was supposed to be also caring for her disappeared, only showing up once a week or so to talk to Grandma about their various problems. When we got there, her living situation was so poor, had I not been moving in, I would have called elder services. She thought the water in her house wasn't drinkable, that her shower didn't work (so she didn't think she could bathe) her nails were ridiculously long, her hair hadn't been cared for, and they had, concerned that she may try to drive, disconnected the battery to her truck. She lived on a 25 acre property, by herself, with no nearby helpers, and someone called her once an evening to make sure she was still okay. In the first few months that we were there, my husband and I had to lock the door to the house we were in (there were two on the property) because she would come down at all times of the day and night and attempt to clean, which resulted in things like half our food being thrown away, us digging half our belongings that she didn't recognize out of the trash, and one of the most terrifying instances, when we were working on the septic tank, she -suddenly- showed up out of nowhere and almost walked into the hole to the tank. I was unable to find work there, and we had to move back to the city, and less than 2 months later, I got a text message that she had passed away. When I asked what happened, I was told that 'she just couldn't take it anymore', which, knowing even though they had disconnected her truck battery, they hadn't removed the guns from her house, I asked my aunt if she had commited suicide. She told me that I aught to be happy I was in a different state, because if I had had the gall to ask that to her face, she would have 'knocked my head off'. I get that grief makes people angry, but considering everything else, I'd had enough, and two out of the three people I -actually- liked out of my family was dead, so I didn't really see the point of putting up with it anymore. I haven't even looked them up online in almost 6 years.