The relationship my father had with his sister Leona and brother Ray was sacred, strong and stoic. Whatever pain they endured as children growing fatherless during the depression, (father was killed when my dad was 5) they kept to themselves. They loved deeply but were not overtly demonstrative. When the same qualities reared in my sisters and I, my dad always said "It;s a Leavitt thing". I always took it as a compliment.
My mothers' family was and remains, equally strong but the exact opposite. They are accepting of all, demonstrative as hell, and in 1959 accepted my dad without question. It was something he never took lightly.
I think it's fair to say that while my my father fell in love with my mom, he also fell in love with her family and either way I have inherited the best of both.