My father had a friend who was brutalised physically and verbally by his alcoholic mother in the late 1930’s he ended up with a terrible speech impediment, his saving grace was being evacuated to Wales and living with a kind farming family and the death of his mother in an air raid in London. His father, a merchant seaman, remarried to a young widow, his step mother was a wonderful warm woman and showed him the love he never had from his own mother she had three kids two her own, one from her late husband’s first marriage, plus later two with her second husband, to her immense credit she treated all the kids the same and they also “adopted” the child of a cousin who had been orphaned. Billy always referred to her as his mother. She got him treatment for his stammer at a time when it was hard to come by and he named his eldest daughter after her he loved her so. There is more to parenting than merely blood.