This is a beautiful story. The situation with parental roles (not to mention presence) was much different here. It's hard to tell it, because I don't know with certainty the full true story. My mother's story on why my birth father wasn't involved since I was 12 is inconsistent, and never explains the fight they had over him wanting to inherit my sister and I if my mother suddenly died (I was 9, we were in the car for a six hour ride to our home town of Sudbury, and apparently there was no chance in Hell he would win (we were planned for my godmother, if anything even happened (which it didn't))). Poor stepdad is primarily my mother's b*tch, but that's a lot of story; to his (and everyone's) 'knowledge', he's a "bad" parent. Again, it's hard to tell exactly what's real to evaluate if that's true. I never blamed him for largely giving up. My mother often just wanted a "partner in crime", a.k.a. a yes-man. Hearing then around the house is like listening to 12 year olds, with one usually on the offensive and the other reacting to everything. But the meanness goes both ways. Much condescension, always. Positive moments between them only ever leave me more emotionally confused than anything. I'm trying to be succinct, but the entire picture is difficult to capture.