My dad like so many others is a hero in my life. I have amazing memories of going to baseball games with my dad, wearing my Dodger Blues with an oversized baseball glove engulfing my hand and screaming out the baseball national anthem at the 7th inning. I loved “take your child to work days”; because my dad was so proud of me, I was always a trophy for him to display. And I loved having him help me with my homework, he was the world’s smartest man in my eyes, and the world’s best dad. And if I can ask, how many other fathers out there allowed their daughters to put curlers in their hair, blue eye shadow on them, with bright red nail polish on their toes, my dad did, and although he looked quite silly, he loved it, because I did it.
But like many things, that age of innocence came to an end, and I began to see my hero’s villain overpower him, till I could hardly see the spark of life in my father’s eyes.
There are 6.6 million children under the age of 18 living with at least one parent who is alcoholic. There are many of us who have seen our parents kryptonite over power them. We’ve all been privy to the downfall of our heroes and that’s not easy to see, remember or even talk about. But something we all should acknowledge on our individual road of recovery from our wounds of disappointment and hurt. In sharing this, my road begins