Hi James:
It's so awful. I too went back and back. And it was always the same, Great to see you, let's all have a drink, and eventually my F would unload. Anything could trigger a rage. One weekend I visited him and--this is not an exaggeration--we had to watch the Weather Channel. The whole time. It was a standoff. He's a rabid Republican as well though he waxes poetic on other subjects: Jews, gays, blacks, Christians (he's right wing but despises all religion), women, you name it. Finally I moved three thousand miles away, got a new job, a new life, and started thinking about something really hurtful he once said to me as a child, which was: You'll never love anybody, you aren't capable of it. At some level I realized even then he was talking about himself but at some level I also believed it. So finally I just thought this: I don't love you. I will accept the possibility that you did the best you could with what little humanity you possess, and I will accept the possibility that you just chose to be a rabidly destructive ass, but that's your deal now. And the thing is, the tables do turn. There's a point after which our parents need us, more than we need them.
Hang in there. Hope you find peace. I've gone through so much rage in my life, I totally hear where you're coming from.