This I Believe

I believe in my Dad, a man who has done so much wrong, yet is so right.

My Dad grew up in Mt. Washington. He along with his three brothers and two sisters grew up in a house where alcohol was more prevalent than water. His father, whom I never met, was an alcoholic through and through. My grandmother was the same way.

Drinking was something I was used to seeing my Dad do. From an early age I knew he liked to drink. At some point however, he lost control. About four years ago it was unheard of for him to come home from the bar before four in the morning. I would worry about him all night, praying he would make it home safe.

Although he was never an angry drunk my Dad was a stupid drunk. I learned so much from his drinking though.

I learned to be humble, because while most people see you at your best there is always a select few who know you at your worst. My Dad's worst was a drunken stupor where he couldn't be taken seriously. When people lose the ability to take you seriously, you have lost all power. You have to fight and fight for that power back, and in many cases, you never get it.

I learned that you don't need liquid courage to be courageous. My Dad's three months spent in rehab shaped me into the person I am today. I talked to my Dad as often as I could, and he always told me to stay strong for my mom and my sister. And stay strong is what I did. I bottled up all the emotions I had and I would go and lift everyday after school. I built up my outer appearance so that nobody would question my mental or emotional state.

I learned that being bitter can only get you so far. I was a bitter person for much of the time he was gone. I thought he was selfish for almost tearing apart our family, and for costing us so much money. But when he came home I found some of his notebooks from rehab, I sat and read what he wrote. He had pages of people he wanted to apologize to. If memory serves me right my name wasn't on his list. I flipped the page to find that my Dad was angry at himself, and that he had no feeling of self worth. My bitterness stopped at that page.

I learned that dependency on something other than yourself was the most deadly thing in the world. While my Dad had been drinking I'm sure he dabbled in other drugs too. I cringe at the thought of my Dad doing cocaine, but in reality he probably did. I realized that when you are dependent on a substance you are a slave to the drug, and that you begin to lose control of your actions. My Dad did a lot of stupid stuff while he was drunk, but his notebook says the biggest mistake he made was putting his family at risk...That was nice to see.

The biggest thing I learned from my Dad's alcoholism is that he has always, and will always love me. To me that doesn't need an explanation.