by Haddy

Created on: November 10, 2008

I have witnessed my children being just that, children. They play with a child-like innocence that I have never known, myself. Sometimes a sadness washes over me reminding me of tough times.You see, I scarcely remember being a child. I grew up in a home where my Dad abused alcohol, and my Mother enabled him to do so. I felt old before I was five years of age. At a tender age I stepped in to be my parents parent. It should have been the other way around. I experienced first-hand the negative effects of alcohol. The effects are still apparent in my life to date.

As a child I never understood what I understand now, as an adult. I never understood why my Dad would take a few swigs of that nasty smelling juice and become a monster. I couldn't fathom why he would want to throw my mother across the room, making her afraid of him. When my Dad wasn't drinking the evil potion he was a good Dad. As I grew up those moments became less and less frequent, and I learned to fear him as much as my Mother did.

I watched as my Mom made excuse after excuse for my Dads behaviour to us kids, family and friends. I watched a vibrant woman become a shell of her former self. My Mom was always busy trying to get my Dad to stop drinking. She barely had time to be a Mom. I missed her so. My heart ached for my Mom and what she lived through. My Dad's addiction to alcohol destroyed my Mother's self- worth. Alcohol played a part in his having affairs with other women. The hurt my Mom felt rippled all the way through her.

Stability is not a word I would use to describe growing up in my home. I remember my Dad, picking fights with just about anyone, including my older brother of eight years. I recall my brother being in the intensive care unit at thirteen years of age with a head injury. My dad sucker punched him. It nearly killed him. Years later my big brother became best friends with alcohol. The effects of alcohol helped him to make some very poor choices. In the end It destroyed him. My brother got into his car one night after drinking and he never made it home. He was thrown from his car. His one head injury almost killed him. The second was the final blow that ended his life.

Yes, I know the negative effects of alcohol first- hand. I loved my brother more then anyone else in this world. I watched him model his life after my Dads. I spent a large part of my life worrying about him and his drinking. On that fateful day I was the one who found my brother laying head-first in the dirt. I sat there helpless as I watched him pass from this life to the next, holding his hand. I hate alcohol. I hate what it can do to the people you love.

When I watch my children being just that, children, a sadness does wash over me. Then after a few minutes have passed, a relief comes. It come's to me because I know that I have ended something that could have kept on going for generations. The negative effects of alchohol ended with me. I chose to not pass it on to my children. My children will get to be children. This has been my healing.

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