Unfortunately, my parents are a package deal, my sane, kind, nurturing and intelligent mother, and my evil, stupid, selfish bullying and parasitical tyrant of a brain diseased father. My choice was to either abandon her to a violent death at his hands in a homicidal blackout rage, or continue to absorb the slings and arrows he purposely and systematically destroyed my life with from birth to shield her from his pathological and psychologist supported abuse..
Being Catholic, my mother simply was never going to divorce my atheist father. (They did come very close to a divorce in June 1987. If my mother and I had left him to go live with her father, my old man would be long dead by now. If we had left him, he would have instantly ceased to exist for me forever.)
Since my father had already destroyed my life, I maintained my relationship with my mother. My three siblings do not have a conscience, just as my father does not have a conscience. But I do have a conscience, perhaps instilled in me by my mother, and our consciences were ruthlessly exploited by my evil father.
If my father dies first, I will instantly experience the exquisite flood of relief I felt when his bitch/cunt old bat of a mother croaked. But if something happens to my mother first, I will CTB before she ever has a chance to be interred, or even placed in a coffin.
Nope. My parents fucked me up, and continue to fuck me up. I feel much better living on my own.
Living on my own, I continually worried about my mother's safety, although I was relieved to be away from my father. Once their nest was empty and it was just the two of them, he immediately turned his vicious and noxious wrath which had always been directed towards me against her, and that is when the most savage and violent confrontations ever between them took place, not over me like my siblings always wanted to hold me accountable for, but towards her as a stand in for his previous and subsequent abuse of me.
During that interval while I was living on my own, my mother broke her leg and my two younger twin brothers and my father treated her like worthless garbage. I returned to take care of her and serve her needs until she could walk again.
My father has always called his wedding vow to care for my mother for better or poorer, in sickness and in health, "Bullshit!," while chauvinistically expecting to be waited on and catered to his every whim.
What my old man has always been is his exact opposite definition of a "man." He has never kept a promise, been consistently indecisive, stabbed his wife and children in the back while boasting of his countless treasons, and so to me, "man" has always been a three letter word spelled "P-O-S!" Do not EVER call me a "man." That is the most derogatory insult and slur which can be directed towards me. (Complete strangers seem to sense this. "Guy," "buddy," "pal," "dude," "young man," "boy," "kid," and other alternatives are used towards me and about me, but never "man" itself. I do not mind at all being called a cocksucker, asshole, cunt, or other terms of endearment my old man never subjected me to.)