Twin Sister Number One called this morning.
Her father, my stepfather, is dying. Will die. Soon.
I'm feeling quite a peculiar mix of emotions, none of which is exactly sorrow. She says she feels nothing.
Imagine what hell for children might be. That was our childhood, except as far as I know, none of us was sexually abused.
The story has only one moral: alcoholism is a bad, bad thing for everyone involved.
Update: And later in the day he died, never having regained consciousness. Because the family was not allowed in ICU during certain hours, everyone had gone home to take a break.
And so he died alone.