Midnight, my mom used to shred me too. Now that she doesn't anymore (she's gotten a LOT easier to be around since dementia hit her so hard), I still can't give her the warm, rosy, fuzzy Cards To My Mother, because they just do NOT fit our relationship. My mother is a card carrying PITA; her mental and physical condition has just made her less brutal with it. Plus, now I KNOW she's broken, and I don't expect a reasonable discourse from her. I hardly used to talk to her - I'd see her 3 times a year when we lived 2 hours away, because she used to ride rough shod over me constantly. I loved it when she lived 2 states away, or in another country - no expectations of anything but sporadic telephone calls! DH and the girls didn't like her any better than I did, and it wasn't because I complained about her, it was because of her direct actions with all of them.
Buying a card doesn't make my cry, luckily enough, it just makes me squirm with irritation and annoyance. Now I try to go early, for the best selection, and I go for a funny one. It's the best I can do. She's never getting a tender one, ever. It's not in me.