palpable

My mother was always open about her hatred of my grandmother. It was an intense and immense hatred. This seemingly boundless hostel anger loathing extended to my father’s father as well, my grandfather. This seemingly boundless hatred for one another was palpable. What made it even more scathing was the fact they we all lived in the same house, my mother, father later my sister on the second floor. My grandmother and grad father on the first floor. Now it seems strange to me that my father never did anything about their hatred, how he found a way to resign himself to such of an intolerable situation. Back than it was just how it was, my mother hated them, so that is how it was. Copy right. All rights reserved.