My mother had 6 brothers, only 2 of them are alive this day.
The oldest brother acted like he was my mother’s parent and decided what she could and couldn’t do. He went to college (paid for by the rest of the family) and, when he was home on the weekends, he told her how to live her life.
Fast forward to when my mother was in her 20’s. She fell in live with my father, who was 13 years older and an atheist. That was a big no no for that uncle and he told her she had to break up with him.
They started to live together and that was an even bigger no no. What would his church think if they heard his only sister lived together with an athiest, without getting married?!

When my father died, we didn’t even get a card or a call.

A year later, my mother was in the hospital and she nearly died. He would go over to the hospital a lot, read her reports and made decisions for her.
When she heard, she told the doctors he had no say in it.
She didn’t she him again in the hospital and, when she got out, he took my other uncle and his family out for dinner because they took care of my brother and me (coming to that later).

When I was 18, my brother got in with a wrong crowd and my mother called him, to ask for advice. His wife then said “everyone has problems.” That was that, conversation closed.

Again, fast forward: I was in my 20’s and we got the message that he had cancer and would die within a year. My mother send him a long letter and, later on, he called.
Within no time, he was shouting and swearing at her and she was in tears.
I took the phone over, listened to it for a minute or so and then gave him the same treatment.
He was impressed and shocked, because in his eyes I was still the innocent little kid. He got angry with me at some point and said “you don’t know what it’s like to die.”
Well, bitch, I do know what it’s like to die, since I have done it before. If you paid any attention to me in my life, you would’ve know. (My vital signs had been completely gone during surgery before and I was gone for a few minutes)

Another uncle had abused my mother for years, ever she was a young girl.
He has been married 3 times and I’m pretty sure he also abused one of his daughters. He had 2 more daughters, but they were too young when he died.
Another uncle found out years later and, instead of helping my mother, he sexual assaulted her, saying “I know you like this.”

Funny enough, the first uncle was the only person next to my grandmother who actually comforted my brother and me when my mother was gravely ill.

Moving on: this isn’t too much about an uncle, but more about his wife.
She was a cold ass woman. Standing on the north pole naked would be warmer than her personality.

Her daughter got in a rough patch in her life and mixed in with the wrong crowd. Instead of helping her, she kicked her daughter out. Daughter went to the police, because she had no idea what to do. They called my mother and so she became my foster sister for a while.
She had worked with both my parents in the Red Cross, but, when my father died, no contact. When my mother got gravely ill, I saw her once, when the complete family gathered. There she said “oh no, my sister in law could die soon!”
My brother and me were nearby, but didn’t even get a pat on the back from her (I was 9 at the time).

When my grandmother died, within a day, everything made of silver and gold was gone and she was the only one who could’ve done that.

If you are wondering how my uncle managed to stay married with her for 38 years, well, he had affairs for 40 years.
When they got divorced, after she got the inheritance from her father and my uncle got half of it, their grown up son wanted to get married. She didn’t allow it because she could see my uncle that day.

And on to the next: the uncle I lived with for a while, was a homophobe. He didn’t want his sons (he had 2) to get any toy that could be considered girly or even let them play with it when they were somewhere else, because they might become gay.

He is also a racist and I heard him talk about ‘dem blacks’ several times. Even with 2 adopted, black cousins, and a quarter Chinese cousin right next to him.

When my father died, he was at the funeral, but not for my mother, brother or me. He was there because, when my father died, he was house sitting for someone. That someone being a coworker of that uncle and that is why he came.
He complained at the funeral that he had to take a few hours of from work because of it.

A year later, I had to live with them while my mother was in the hospital. At that moment, being a girl, I could only play with ‘the girl toys’.
Did they have any? No.
Were they planning to get some, even if it was just by going to my house and get some? No. That would tempt his sons to play with them.

In the following year, my brother was in and out if the hospital. I had to stay with them every time and they never woke up in time to give my breakfast and take me to school in time (even when it was a minute walk).
So I always woke up in time, make myself a sandwich and run to school.

One of my uncles couldn’t get kids, but, when he and his wife were in their 40’s, his wife became pregnant. He thought it was a miracle.
She was conceived out of an afair and we all know that kid was conceived the same way.

And the last uncle and his wife...
When my grandfather died, soon after, my uncle and mother had a discussion and he told my mother to drop dead.

His wife, when she had some alcohol, she starts to tell stories, even if she hasn’t had contact with that person for years (she hasn’t had any contact with my mother for 15 years, but still told stories about her at family reunions (to which we were never invited)).
We know she did, because 2 cousins both contacted us after and told us about it.

According to her, my mother was a sheman, a lesbian, anti Christ and much more.
They also always made up excuses why we, my family and an uncle, weren’t there. One if the cousins who told us about it, was the son of that uncle. He asked his father about it and heard he never got an invitation or even heard there would be a reunion. That cousin then asked my mother and got the same story.
All the uncles and aunts believe her stories, btw, since we live in the same small town so they think she knows best.