... I'm just wondering how both my parents and I will be able to experience "bliss," since I hated them and was overjoyed when they died, whereas they always wanted a closer relationship with me. (They got points for teaching me that religion is bullshit, but it wasn't quite enough to excuse their faults.)
Sorry for both you and them. You can't hurt them now - only yourself - forgive what ever they did to you.
My father was a really good man, an MD who provided medical services to the poor in West Virginia. We were always short on cash, but never food - especially not in deer season. He was paid so many times in jars of pickles that we gave many away to others more needy and had to rent a cold storage locker for meat (rabbits, squriles, pork, and venison) to buffer the seasonal variations in supply. We had a garden too, but ate more meat than was good for us.
He was very religious. In the depth of the depression he literally put his last dollar in the collection plate. When I, as a teenager, firmly decided I did not want to join him as he hoped for a decade or so of joint medical practice, so he went to work on salary as an MD at the main mental hospital in the state (in Weston) and started to study to become one of the better paid psychiatrists. He got to be board certified a year or two before I graduated from Cornell yet despite this education that normally destroys any religious belief, he held fast to his.
He only did one thing that hurt me, and that out of love, I later understood. He was a "male chauvinist" (Biblically based POV that women should be obedient servants of their husband, etc.) and my mother was quite intelligent. I strongly suspect he knocked her up and that was why they married and later divorced as very incompatible by nature. My mother became an alcoholic; I can remember her out cold "sick" on the floor as she later explained to me. Courts in W. Va. back then always gave custody to the mother. She lived on the meager alimony as could not hold her teaching jobs even for a full year, so I never spent more than one year in same school until my father regained my custody. To help me learn to love him, he showed me a couple of inches thick stack of canceled checks he said were spent to rescue me and I knew he was poor. Later I learned they were mainly alimony checks, but the psychological damage to me was already done. I was (and still almost am) pathologically frugal* not wanting to cost him any more. I. e. I only ate a little food until both he and my stepmother finished, baby sat, cut yards, had a paper route by age 12, etc. I have no financial worries now - have given both my daughters $13,000, now $14,000, each year for more than a decade (that is the no gift tax limit) but still get irrational delight to save a few cents with a store coupon, always mentally calculate if the lager size is a better o!)r worse bargain than the "on promotion " smaller one, still read restaurant menu from right to left and never order even water to drink (only bottled is available in Brazil and the mark up is at least 300%) etc.
* I understand this and why. I have considered trying to change it but it is so deep in me that I don't try. It was reinforced all thru my undergraduate years on a full needs scholarship, washing dishes for my meals, and odd jobs, especially baby sitting, which combines well with studding, for pocket money, but one Thanksgiving I could not scrap together bus fare home - so decided to not eat that day. - That makes you really thankful you can most days. (Kitchen of fraternity house where I washed dishes was locked up tight and not eating on that day was better than an embarrassing hamburger in a "greasy spoon" restaurant, I thought. I still put a thick layer of free catsup on any I buy.)