I read this a while back and it definitely gave me some comfort. The author is a normal, non-alcoholic guy, and he doesn't know how to deal with his family, either. It's not just us drunks. Apparently other people feel clueless when it comes to family.
In some ways my relationships with family members improved when I moved 2500 miles away. And this is mostly on me - I'm not the easiest guy to sustain a long-standing and intimate relationship with. I'm prickly. I'm impatient. I'm an insufferable know-it-all.
"My parents had both fled communities where family ties were strong and long, for New York City, where individuals were autonomous and self-invented. We performed the rituals of family the way some people attend church, because it’s the right thing to do, rather than because they feel the spirit. It worked fine until it didn’t. Then my mother was on her own, with three sons who thought being on your own was the goal of human existence. We weren’t opposed to family warmth; we just didn’t speak the language, and didn’t know where to learn it. Put a gun to my head and it would never occur to me to invite my mother for a week at the beach."
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