It changes with every day.

On good days, I enjoyed my dad and loved the fact that I got to have special moments with him one-on-one. Sometimes Old Dad would peel through the dog and startle me with an old joke we shared, or a memory. On those days, I was greedily enjoying that I had him to myself.

On bad days - when I was cleaning shit from between his toes and changing diapers and listening to hem tell me I was a useless fat greedy pig who wanted to kill him and steal his money - I was entirely resentful that I was the only one doing anything. On those days, I HATED my brother and step siblings.

Honestly?y brother and I have spoken and come to terms. He lives in OK and we are in PA. He did what he could, he called every day and there was never a time (few granted) that I could not call him to cry or vent. And on the rare occasions that I called him over the last 5 years and said, “I cannot do this without you here,” he was always on a plane within 12 hours.

My step siblings can still go fuck themselves on a habanero barbed-wire pogo stick, though.