by the time i was 12 my mother had been hospitalized 3 times. (severe depression)
the stint when i was 12 is the one i most clearly remember - it lasted for a month. she had ect (shock treatments). one time my family went to visit her/take her to grandma's for the afternoon, and in the car, well my birthday was coming up. she did not know when my birthday was, or how old i was. it must have made quite an impression since i still remember it vividly. my point, though, is this:
i do not ever remember feeling unloved, less than, or abandoned (although i was) by my mother because i was unfit, unloveable, or in any way to blame. i always KNEW, as a youngster, that my mother was gone and unable to be herself much of the time
BECAUSE SHE WAS ILL. She was ill.
i think that, even though there are wounds, you can make the distinction that their father is whatever is going on (fill in the blank) because of a situation completely separate from them, who they are, and their value.