The sun was beating down on my friends and I as we played army in the fields behind our houses, filled with wild grass and weeds. As we played in the hot afternoon, my stomach would turn as if I was about to get in a fight at school. This could only mean one thing: it was almost time for dad to get home. Many things ran through my head as I lost my breath. Did I do everything that was on the chore list? Did I get in trouble at school today? I was thinking of anything that I might have done earlier that day to upset my father.
My father is a good man and I love him very much. We had the closest father-son relationship you could get. If Dad was outside in the garage working on his lifted maroon Ford, I was right there working with him. If my dad was going to the store for hamburger meat before dinner, I went with him. I went everywhere and did everything I could with my dad. He was my hero; he was invincible, like a comic book character.
My father had one downfall though: he liked to drink. I mean my dad drank all the time. Seven days a week. My dad was a construction worker and every day after work he and his fellow workers had "bud thirty". This was actually 5:30 pm the end of the workday for them.
My family did not go through this every night but once would be enough to scare you for life. Living with my alcoholic and abusing father helped me to make one of the best decisions in my life. When I was in junior high school, my friends began to drink and party a little (well what they thought was partying). Though I tried drinking and getting high, I had the vision of my poor mother getting kicked in the head by my drunken father, and this made me hate alcohol. I made the decision to stop drinking and all other party favors when I was only fourteen. I had only been drunk a few times at that point.
As I grew older, I was a very outgoing person. I did not drink, but was always at parties. I did all the partying I could, but never drank. I still had just as much fun as the next person, but I did not ever wake up feeling like shit the next day.
I am now twenty-four years of age with my own family. I have a beautiful daughter and wife. To this day I do not drink. I wish my father would not have put my mother through all of this, but in the long run he has made me a better person.
You see my dad was not a happy drunk. He was a very angry drunk. He was very aggressive and wanted to fight when he drank. This is why my stomach would turn when it was almost time for him to get home. If my brother, my
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