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I am an only child, so when I was younger, I loved both my parents equally. Dad had his first heart attack when I was in Kindergarten or First Grade, memory is fuzzy on that now. He was in the hospital for what seemed like months. He had major surgery; when I was finally able to see him I couldn't just jump up in his arms, and that was tough.
He and mom started fighting cause of all the medical bills (this was the early 70's) and I learned to occupy myself and shut them out. I hated the yelling.
Dad worked hard, but he had repeated surgeries (for arterial schlerosis) and was out of work every couple of years (he had a good Govnt job with good benefits) and wasn't able to do as much. He had his right leg amputated at the knee in 1975 and that really limited him. Mom started working 2 jobs to help pay for everything and she became bitter and they really started figting more. Cursing, yelling; it was misery for me and I am sure for them too.
Dad retired on disability when I was 16, he couldnt get around all that well on his one good leg, it was weak.
I graduated in '84 and in '86 my mom was diagnosed with Dementia (Alzheimers) and so Dad and I became her caregivers. I turned to drugs and alcohol to cope. I was a wreck. Dad was strong but I could see he was internalizing his pain and it was eating him up.
We were never really physically close, no hugs often or anything like that.
He died when I was 24, and I was left to care for my mom. THAT was hell.
I had already met the woman who would become my wife, she was by my side the whole way! She loved me then like no one ever had...and if I had not screwed up so much of my own life she would still be here today.
But alas...we are friends and we raise our daughter to the best of our ability.
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