secondes chances
second chances
This is a thank you to my dad. You are the only guy for me, always. Yes brother, boyfriend you’re great. But dad, you are truly amazing…
My dad used to drink a lot you see, when I mean a lot, I’m talking hiding alcohol in places you shouldn’t. This went on for a few years and I thought nothing of it. It was quite civilized overall, it’d be mostly in the evenings after I’d get home from school and after he’d got home from work. Anyway, he did his thing and I did mine. I was quite oblivious to it because of my mum I think. Until one night, I was 17 by this point and had a car. So of course I went to McDonalds to buy a burger at 10pm just because I’d got a new car. I’d asked my family if they had wanted anything and my dad asked for a burger too. I picked up some friends on the way and ended up being over an hour late home.
I arrived home to my dad at the door and all I remember is being pushed against the porch door and crouching down putting my hands over my face to protect myself. Thank god my mum was there, she jumped in front of me but he still managed to get me. There was shouting, by this point I heard my brother on the stairs shouting too. The details are hard to remember but my mum slept in my bed with me that night. We’d lay there in the dark and she’d open up about how every now and again that he’d do this. Not often, but enough for my mum to have seen some things over the years. “Angry drunk” she said but I didn’t say anything back, because I knew asking question was not what I should do. I knew she was opening up to me and that must’ve been hard. I didn’t sleep that night, it made me sick knowing he was in the house.
I avoided my dad for two weeks after that. Literally. I spent as much time as I could out of the house and refused to be in the same room as him. Until my mum had enough. She obviously had spoken to him as he’d been constantly trying to ring me. I wouldn’t answer though. Until one day I had no choice, he came into the kitchen and I was forced to talk to him. He apologised, there was no emotion in his voice, he was so professional… And from that moment he swore he’d never touch a drop of alcohol again. I just nodded my head and said OK. You see I was closer to my mum than my dad at this stage in my life so I was numb to him and the situation. I knew it’d be easy to just ignore him.
Until, Christmas 2014. All the family together, music, food and drink. I replay the moment so much in my mind. I was standing next to my dad and my uncle came round with a tray of sherry. My dad declined it, said he’d given up.
I was shocked, this happened over and over and over again. He stopped for me? He stopped because he cared enough about what happened? I honestly couldn’t believe it, I still don’t sometimes. He hasn’t even had a drop since.
This isn’t a story to show a happy ending, because I realise the majority of the time it doesn’t end like this. But I am the lucky one I guess. The feeling of pride I get knowing when he declines a drink is empowering; although it is always followed with a sinking heart because it always brings up the reasons why he stopped.
I have so much respect for you dad, who knew you’d end up being a reason why I value myself and my life as much as I do.
