Things have changed a lot in recent weeks. My little brother had his first baby a couple of weeks ago. I haven’t visited yet due to a mix of things, namely my new job—but also some estranged family issues. My brother and his partner live down the road from my father who I have decided to cut out of my life, for many reasons.

The years of bullying, openly racist comments, and deeply misogynistic attitude pushed me away. Years would go by and I would be made to feel guilty by those close to him, as if it were my fault we didn’t have a relationship. I’m tired of giving the man chances. Most recently though, his snide homophobic comments aimed at my transgender son was the last straw.

Now the only thing I feel guilty about is not seeing my beautiful baby nephew and supporting his mother whom I want to get to know better. Somehow, my little brother turned into a kind soul with a positive attitude in life. He grew up in that household, surrounded by that mindset, whereas I only visited really. I was raised by my step-father and mother in the next town over, and didn’t have much to do with the man.

I am so fortunate to have my step-father, whom I have referred to as dad since I was three, in my life. He and my mother were involved in a terrible accident this summer. Terrible is too light of a term. Horrific, shocking and life-changing doesn’t even do it justice. Following years of caring for my maternal grandmother, they went on their first vacation in a long, long time after she passed. They were celebrating their anniversary by visiting my sister’s family in Pittsburg. My mother wanted to spend time with my little nephew, the sweetest little blue-eyed toddler.