by Dreidle Flare

Created on: February 22, 2009

Alcohol is slowly killing my daddy. Though, this week I've realized the end may be coming more swiftly than I was prepared for. But maybe not. Alcohol is the slowest, most torturous killer.

The last few years I have been trying to prepare myself for the phone call informing me that my father has died. I have tried to prepare myself for lung cancer from the smoking, or cerrosis of the liver, liver cancer, liver failure, heart attack or all of the above from all the alcohol. I've known for a while that my dad's life will end sooner than it should, and I've tried to mentally prepare myself for that day.

Here is where my father's journey with alcohol began:

He was a teenager, I believe just thirteen years old. His father was an alcoholic. One day he went to the hospital, but before he left, he told his son (my dad) that he wasn't coming home this time. That he had to take care of his mama and sister and brothers.

My daddy lost his daddy to alcoholism as a child. You would think we would learn from our parents, but sometimes, the genes we're given are just too stubborn. Sometimes its not up to us.

I don't know exactly when my daddy started drinking heavily. It could have been shortly after his father's death, or even before. It could have been in high school or when he went to the Navy or after my parents' divorce. I don't have the age or date that this habit took hold on his life, but I do know that he's always been excellent at hiding it.

Only recently, at age 25, have I been able to tell when my father is drunk. And even then I can only tell on occasion. Looking back, I can recall times when he would call and ramble on about inherent nonsense for hours. I never questioned it as a child because I was just happy that he was actually calling me, and I didn't want to believe anything was wrong with my daddy. He never made any sense in those phone calls, and he would repeat himself over and over. It was difficult to end the conversation and get off the phone with him. As an adult, I now realize that those were times he was drunk, and probably doesn't even remember talking to me.

My dad has been drinking heavily for as long as I can remember. He has never held a steady job, and has never had the money he needs. His wife, the wild wild west, and alcohol were what made him happy. In the last year alone, this is how alcohol has been his friend.

-Drinking so much that he doesn't even notice his wife is becoming absolutely hooked on Methamphetamine.

-Comes home to find her and her

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