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One of my earliest memories was of my dad cooking dinner for my mom. She was sick in bed. I was 2 and change. He fell over and my mom screamed and screamed. I remember driving to pick him up from the hospital. He had overdosed.
One of my earliest memories was of my dad cooking dinner for my mom. She was sick in bed. I was 2 and change. He fell over and my mom screamed and screamed. I remember driving to pick him up from the hospital. He had overdosed.
The sound of his body falling will forever be ingrained in my psyche.
I have a lot of good memories of my dad, and a lot of bad memories too.
He drove around with me and made drug deals in his beat up brown truck. I remember a few of his customers well.
I have a lot of good memories of my dad, and a lot of bad memories too.
He drove around with me and made drug deals in his beat up brown truck. I remember a few of his customers well.
We watched Ben-Hur together, all 3 hours and 44 minutes. He was enraptured. He loved the history channel, Star Wars, and any involving space.
He read books every spare moment, when he wasn& #39;t working on tin work (family of folk artists). He loved the Lord of the Rings.
He read books every spare moment, when he wasn& #39;t working on tin work (family of folk artists). He loved the Lord of the Rings.
He read LOR and watched the extended movies every year. I try to watch the movies often but to completely honest I& #39;ve only read the Hobbit. I& #39;m trying to get through rest on Audible.
It warmed my cold dead heart when my son sat through and enjoyed the trilogy movies.
It warmed my cold dead heart when my son sat through and enjoyed the trilogy movies.
My dad had 3 kids by different women. We were all more than 10 years apart. He never got it right. We all suffered through his trauma.
He was a Vietnam era vet, the youngest of 6 (a so-called mistake), growing up in a tiny adobe house in Santa Fe.
He was a Vietnam era vet, the youngest of 6 (a so-called mistake), growing up in a tiny adobe house in Santa Fe.
He was honorably discharged as a sergeant in the army. According to my aunt he was in charge of checking the bodies as they came back from Vietnam. All of his friends from basic training. These were things he never told me. We watched war movies often, with much seriousness.
He boasted about black belt, and stories of flying cocaine back from Colombia. Or the time that he hid a brick of cocaine under an elk he had bow hunted from a sheriff who congratulated him on the elk. At least he had a permit for the elk.
There are so many stories I have of him. Many happy, many sad. He lived in permanent supportive housing until his death 7 years ago from cancer. He was 65.
The loss of my brother 2 weeks ago at 53 makes makes this time of year even worse.
The loss of my brother 2 weeks ago at 53 makes makes this time of year even worse.
The irony of all my education is in that now I know that I could never have saved them. They had to want to be helped, to know how to let someone in. The problem started long before they picked up a drink. My job as parent is so weighty, the importance never lost upon me.
I don& #39;t know what a happy ending for my family would look like. Maybe my children and my nieces and nephews will love themselves more that we have loved ourselves. That we may find some blessings in our many curses.
