This is exactly the problem I'm dealing with: in my cosmology, my mom was the bad one. My dad, freed from the constraints of his terrible wife, wasn't supposed to be so terrible. About six months after she left him he actually said "we were dealing with a lot of shit when you were born and didn't really have a handle on it until your sister was born. By then you'd moved on and didn't really need us anymore so you never really had any parenting and for that I'm sorry." It was more of a mea culpa as I ever figured possible and reflected a modicum of self-awareness.
It appears to have been temporary, however, and these tiny little moments were the fingerholds I was clinging to for a sense of normalcy. And as of Sunday, they have slipped away.