Sure. There are exceptions to everything. My alcoholic was a bit different.

Growing up, education was seemingly the only thing that was important to him. I always got good grades but I dreaded each time that report card came out.

If I got good grades (90s) I was allowed to pick out a new Nintendo game. If I got bad grades (anything less than 80s) I was grounded. If I got an 85, he’d want to know where the other 15 points went. 

“That sounds like normal father stuff!”

It was until it wasn’t.

Making sure I wasn’t wasting time just sitting around watching TV or playing video games enjoying my life was also a top priority for him.  I loved video games, it was an escape for me.  Still is.  But if that kitchen needed cleaning or that lawn needed mowing, he’d snap if I was having fun.  Go mow, go clean, go study, go get those other 15 points.

“Still sounds like regular father type stuff.”

The difference is in the way a regular father says things versus how an alcoholic father says the same things. I can assure you the latter is much harsher and without regard to the feelings of an eight year old boy. He didn’t care if his words were mean. He didn’t care if I cried. He would just shake his head and walk away. That’s when the hurt would set in. I believe his intentions were to be mean with his words as he thought that was the only way they would have any affect. He didn’t realize we would have listened simply because he was our father.

The meanness in his words, that’s where it was different.

I never understood how selfish alcoholics were until I was older and could make some sense of it.

I remember when we’d go to the seven-eleven and I’d have to go in and buy him a carton of cigarettes. I could barely see over the counter. They’d of course say no and every time I’d have to point to him outside and he’d wave. Then I’d have to walk out of the store with a carton of cigarettes. A child. I was so embarrassed every time. I hated doing it. He didn’t care and would snap if I tried to refuse.

Seagrams 7 and Pepsi was his poison. I remember having to make his drinks at night. Again, maybe eight years old. Up to the third diamond with 7 and the rest Pepsi. A child.

I remember having to live in an apartment without my father for a while when I was very young, around six maybe.  Till the day he died I had no idea why.

It wasn’t until after he passed away that my mother told me about his affair.  It crushed her. He showed her no love, maybe he was bored with her. Maybe cheating was a thrill for him. Made him forget what was waiting at home. Who knows. How could anybody be that selfish? I’d guess that most alcoholics are, not sure though.

When she told me that, I was pissed. I was 25. I spent my entire childhood, teenage years, young adult life trying to impress this man who was nearly impossible to impress. And he did that to my mom?? The one that did everything with us? Took us on all those adventures? Unreal.

Don’t get me wrong, we had a lot of good times. We went on vacations, golfed here and there. He had my sense of humor so we did a lot of picking back and forth.

We definitely had great times.

He actually quit drinking when I was somewhere around 16. From there on out he was a much better father, a much better husband and a much better person. But I feel like by then most of the damage had already been done.

Unfortunately he only made it another 8 years or so before he passed from colon cancer. I do miss him dearly and wonder what would have been all the time.