A sobering anniversary
“You know, today is your dad’s sobriety anniversary,” my mom mentioned to me as I glued fake sunflowers onto a brown headband for my costume.
That’s right, I thought. October 23rd just comes and goes now without much fanfare, AA chips, or even a “birthday” cake. My dad doesn’t even mention it anymore. I take for granted the fact that he’s been sober since 1989, but I know it’s something I should be thankful for on a daily basis.
I don’t feel much different about his sobriety than I did when I answered a friend’s questions he has posed after writing about how alcohol had played a role in his life. Jason asked, “Do you share any of the alcohol exposure stories I have mentioned? How has alcohol shaped your relations with any one person/family member? How harshly do you judge the people in your life who have not been taught how to claim a personal victory over their drug of choice?”
I responded at the old blog and in an email to him (I made a few edits).
In the fall of fourth grade, my father finally broke down, admitted that he was powerless over alcohol and checked into a treatment center. For a whole month, he stayed at the rehab center away from family and went through treatment in order to become sober.
While he was gone, it was just my mom and my three siblings at home. We’d visit the sterile hospital on the weekends. I didn’t understand much then what he was going through. I didn’t comprehend how alcohol had affected my father, my family and myself. At 9, terms like sobriety and chemical dependency don’t make much sense.
But I was a curious kid. I’d ask lots of questions during our weekly visits to the rehab center in Costa Mesa, an hour away from our home. When he finally returned, I read everything I could get my hands on that would tell me more about what it was that my father was going through.
I knew my father was going to be different when he left treatment, but I didn’t know how.
Sixteen years later, my father is still sober and I’ve learned much more about alcoholism and how it has shaped me and my family. I interviewed my mother and brother a four years ago on how they coped with my father as an alcoholic. It was then that I truly learned how it had affected my family.
I used to think I was so different from all the other kids I grew up around. I didn’t know anyone else who’s father or mother was an alcoholic. I rarely even talked about it with my siblings. I found out what I knew through my father and his AA magazines. When I got to college, I found that a number of friends had similar experiences. I saw how alcoholism could have vast and profound effects on their lives. Most of their experiences were worse. Their fathers didn’t stop drinking when they were still kids.
I feel lucky. Growing up with an alcoholic father — one who has been in recovery for most of my life — has made me more cautious with alcohol. My faith was strengthened. I found new respect for the father I always admired. I realized that he was one of the few lucky ones to make it past 100 days, 1 year, 10 years or other milestones of sobriety. I learned from him, and he learned from me. From that point on I really started to grow up. I realized that my life wasn’t perfect and neither was my family. I began to learn more about my father as more than just the man I called dad. He opened up to his kids and showed signs of weakness. Everything changed from that point on, and I’m thankful for it.
To this day, I still think of a lot of problems in terms of how my father viewed his alcoholism and AA philosophy. I look at what I can control and what is out of my control. I try to let some things go and just put them in God’s hands. I say the Serenity Prayer, it helps.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen.
wow… I’m glad to read this post. My father has been through rehab like 4 times, and the AA meetings of course. At one point he was sober for like almost five years but thought he didn’t need to the meetings or support anymore and he fell off the wagon and lost everything.
As I write this he is somewhere in Virginia doing God knows what, but reading your post makes me think that maybe there is hope for him. I haven’t talked to him in over 2 months and I don’t know what I would say if I did… I’ve been toying with the idea of posting something about my father, but I just haven’t had the courage.
Anyway, thanks for the post… it really hit home and I’m so glad to hear your dad has done so well.
I grew up with a mother and father who never once abused a drug. My mom’s mom was an alkie and a chronic smoker, my father’s dad used to do the same. I think this influenced both my parents to not pursue this after seeing their some of their siblings mess their lives with el vicio. I grew up watching my father as his friends and brothers urged him to pick up a beer–and he never did. To this day, he’s a terrible drinker, just never liked it.
I’m not like my father. I like to drink, although, everytime I feel that urge, as many of us do, when we’re having fun with friends or just the night would seem just a little bit better with one more drink, I think of my dad. He doesn’t have to prove he’s un hombre echo y derecho by picking up el vicio.
My saludos to your dad.
I think you touched on a subject that effects a majority of Latinos today. I happy that you’re father has remained sober and continues to fight against alcoholism. I know too many people that have lost lives due to their alcohol abuse. My father is an alcoholic, but he won’t admit it. We try our best to support him, but if he does not have the strength to fight and acknowledge that he has a problem then there is nothing much I can do.
it is true a lot of latino’s do deal with this a lot. i had a flashback to a couple of times having to deal with my father while drunk. he really was unbearable. he cleaned up his act late one morning when he got hit by a SUV. he was riding his bicycle to work. it was a morning after having his little trago. he broke his leg and his face was really scratched up, but he stopped drinking after that little accident. Pero gracias a Dios. it could have been worse.
my dad “was” an alcoholic when i was very young. he quit for twelve years, but remained an addict, as i suspect he will always be. gambling, sex, love, dabbling in different chemical highs.. you name it. i don’t know that he recognizes it as a problem because it’s never devastated his life or ours, and things could have been much worse, but the behaviors associated with the addictive personality have certainly had lasting effects on all of his most important relationships. sometimes the unchangeable “things” the serenity prayer refers to are people.. acceptance has been an uphill battle but i think i’m closer than i’ve ever been.
it makes me smile to know that your dad found the strength in himself to make that change and works hard to maintain it. give him a hug for all of us. =)
My grandfather (dad’s father) was an alcoholic. This shaped my dad’s side of the family to become who they are now. My Abuelita had nine children. The oldest died young, so she was left with eight. Out of all the eight children, not one uses drugs, has an alcohol problem, or even smokes a cigarette. A lot of my aunts and Abuelita are practicing Christians and every time you walk into the house you can hear Christian music playing from the stereo.
They were affected very much by Grandfathers alcoholism. He didn’t provide for the family how he should have and that left my Abuelita to care for nine children on her own. She crossed the border every day and washed and ironed laundry for un tostón, which was hardly enough to get by. She lived in a vecindad where the entire block shared a restroom. I remember visiting there when I was a child, no more then six years old.
But the years passed by, her children grew up, and all of them blossomed into beautiful people. All of my tios are excellent fathers and provide very well for their families. My tias are wonderful people full of so much hope and faith. I’m very blessed to be surrounded by such people. . .but it never ceases to amaze me, that they are all like that because he was an alcoholic who would never get help to rid himself of his vicio.
Joel,
I remember reading something you had written about you, your sister and “bad dad Saturdays.” Writing is one of the best things for me to do when I just need to get something out. Maybe you’ll find that your blog (or even something written just for yourself) will be good to help figure out things regarding your father.
EMC,
I’m always cognizant of when I feel I “need a drink” too. It worries me, and as I told a friend last night, I still feel I have an addictive personality. Alcohol is probably not it, but I still don’t feel immune. I’m glad your parents provided good examples. Now, imagine your father trying to go sober and his compadres urging him to drink, ’cause it’s just a beer… now, that was tough for him.
Julissa,
I’ve learned a lot from my father even as he’s helped other friends/family members go sober or stay on the wagon. I’m also glad that my father probably won’t die of the same thing that killed his grandfather.
Santiago,
I’m glad your father wasn’t seriously harmed in that accident with the SUV. I’m glad he’s done what’s best for him.
Kitti,
I’ll give him a hug. I know other people are part of those things that we can’t control, which was something that’s helped me a lot in my relationships.
CAD,
Thanks for sharing your family’s story. It really is amazing how one person’s vicio can impact other’s to seek something different for themselves.
Great post thanks for sharing this story. It is true alcoholism is a problem among many Latinos and not all men are willing to admit to the problem and go get help. I am so glad to hear that your dad found it in himself that he needed to get that help. My parents always taught us about the consequences of abusing alchohol. I’m glad they did. I’ve seen too many people ruin their lives and die because of alcoholism.