The Bottom Of the Driveway

Dear Daddy
I write you in spite of years of silence
You've cleaned up, found Jesus, things are good or so I hear
This bottle of Stephen's awakens ancient feelings
Like father, stepfather, the son is drowning in the flood

               -Weezer

Dear Dad,

It has been a while since we have spoken. I did not come to your gravesite this week but I know this would not have bothered you. You were never much on religion or spirituality; you once told me "When you're dead, you're dead." Whether that's true or nor I'm not sure, but what I do know is that you live in my heart, my sister's heart, my brother's heart. Your spirit is not underground in some grave, that I feel in my bones. We love you, I love you. I miss you.

I am so grateful you never learned the truth about me, about my drinking. Your passing triggered the final chain of events that ultimately ended my old life and got me sober. I reflect on my last alcoholic bender, when I drove to your funeral, a half of a fifth of vodka on the driver's seat. I gave your eulogy drunk. I am so sorry...I am so sorry. I thank God you never had to see me at my worst, and for that I am forever grateful. I am better now, 3 1/2 years sober, living a new life, a healthy life. I have a good career, my health, and great friends who care for me and watch out for me, as I do them.

My children still do not talk to me. I lost them the same time I lost you. That autumn of 2016, when I died and was resurrected as a sober man.

Your grandchildren are safe, living with their mother, and doing well. They are straight A students in school, keep growing and learning, and are discovering their expanding worlds...as children do. I miss them every day like I never thought I could miss anything in my life. They are the most important things in my universe. I am helping them by staying sober, by working my program, keeping them safe and putting away for their futures. I pray for them and their mother every day. I know how you feel about prayer, and that's OK; I feel differently. Prayer helps me. I feel better, and know someone is listening.

My middle child has agreed to meet with me today, this Father's Day. I am excited. We will see each other this afternoon at the bottom of the long driveway of his house, the house in which you and I gathered on his eighth day of life as the rabbi stood over his bris ceremony. I remember it was only one of two times in my life I ever saw you cry. I know you had emotion, sensitivity down deep. I know you did. I saw a glimpse of it.

Thank you dad for being so wonderful to me; for teaching me what you know in a way that was comfortable for you. I am trying, working so hard. I promise to live a selfless life, a life of serving, of doing for others to improve the world. But today, this Father's Day, I am going to mainly think of you and my children. And see my son, at the bottom of the driveway....for a few minutes, and cherish that glorious moment.






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