Kathy, I too am the child of an alcoholic and recognize so many of the incidents one your list. It's a pretty lonely life and much of that has carried on to my adulthood.

My uncle was an alcoholic and our families were close, but I never realized what he put his family through until I was in my 20s. My cousin would tell me things but most of it I was too young and stupid to comprehend; my uncle seemed like such a funny, happy guy to me. Now I know her life was one recurring nightmare after another. We are in our 50s now and all of our parents are gone, but I can clearly see the effect it had on her life. The children of alcoholics pay a huge price for something they didn't choose and couldn't fix.

Lynn and Kathy, I am so sorry about your childhood. It must have been terrible growing up. I almost feel as if I should apologize for having the best parents in the world. Vique.

Very sad, Kathy. Alcoholism touches everyone, I know.

My dad was an alcoholic. He did manage to work and didn't wreck cars or carry a gun.

We had no savings or extra cash for much of anything. We were fed, but I know life wouldn't have been such a struggle if money we didn't have wasn't spent on drink.

No sleepovers at our house..I sure enjoyed spending the night somewhere else and being exposed to a more 'normal' family life.

Lost all love and respect for my dad..he took so much joy out of life. What's worse, I started to lose respect for my Mother when I was older. I felt she should've got us all out of that situation; I know she wasn't happy either.

I too am the child of an alcoholic parent and recognize so many incidents you have listed above.

I remember late one night the priest, and some AA men coming to the house. The priest administered the last Sacrament, as it was a possibility that he might not live through the night. I guess back then (in the fifties) one didn't go to the emergency room if they were dieing from being drunk. I do know he was in and out of hospitals a lot during his lifetime, getting dried out.

He never meant to hurt all of his loved ones. The hurt was just a result of the horrible addiction he had that he never got under control.

My brother too was an alcoholic, and died as a result in his thirties.

I totally quit drinking long ago out of the fear of becoming an alcoholic. I often find it hard to be around anyone who is drinking, and to this day, the smell of whiskey makes me nauseated as it brings up a lot of very bad memories.

I always thought of my Mom as a living martyr.

Vique, life is funny.....I ended up with the world's best dad when my mom remarried! But those early scars are the type you carry forever, aren't they, Kathy?

I can add my name to your post Granlan.....my Dad was a "functional alcoholic"..... at least thats the term that was applied to his situation after he began receiving counseling for his drinking.....he worked and went about somewhat of a routine, so therefore he "functioned". No guns, no threats, no yelling...... but also, no friends at the house, no money for savings, no "extras"...barely enough food to feed us six kids. He died at 58...from cancer. They couldn't treat his cancer for fear that his body would shut down from all the drinking (whiskey...."rot-gut", cheap whiskey) that he had done for 40 years or more. He was diagnosed in January....5 weeks later he was dead. His death certificate says he died from lymphoma....it should read alcoholism.......

I'm the child of an alcoholic dad and because of this, I grew up not knowing how to trust. If one can't trust their parents, they'll be unable to trust anyone in a healthy way. And if you can't trust, you can't have healthy relationships. I've screwed up plenty of relationships because it took me until about the age of 40, with my own sobriety and alot of therapy, to know what trusting really is and should be and how to do it.

Lana, Remember people in those times did not have the choices they do now. Mom would have housing, food and (hopefully) support money now.
Your mom did the best she could at the time.
As bad as it sounds, we didn't know any better. I had a great friend growing up who made life much easier.
I just felt the "calling" to share this now. I am sure you understand why. I am 10 years older than dad was when he died. The scars are still there.
Kathy

Wow, Kathy. Thanks for sharing what must be some paimful memories.
When I was growing up the neighbor right across the road from me was a drunk. He was an old bachelor. My Dad and uncle rented his farm. He was a simple man; probably had an I.Q. of 85 or 90. Six days of the week he was a very quiet, soft spoken even shy person. But, every Friday night he would go into town and get a bottle of Old Log Cabin whiskey. On Saturdays he would be the most foul mouthed, belligerent, obnoxious person you could imagine. In summers when he was totally drunk he would usually decide it was time to mow his lawn. Once he got into some tall grass, plugged the mower and reached up under it to unplug it. He cut the ends off all four fingers. He came staggering across the road, Mom got him into the bathroom and was trying to stop the bleeding when he passed out. It was the kind of incident that leaves a lasting impression on a seven year old.
After watching this Jekyll and Hyde transformation every week I decided I never wanted to do that. To this day two beers in one evening is a night of heavy drinking for me.
Looking back now this may have been a very good way to grow up. I wasn't affected by the day to day garbage like Kathy, but, I saw just enough of it to know I never wanted to do go down that raod.

Ron

Patser, I think you grow up not knowing how to cope with life stresses too. Dad drank. My brother and I are heavy (I don't know what happened with my sister).
You kind of grow up "waiting for the other shoe to fall"
I am glad you worked through it.
Hugs, Kathy

I hear ya, Kathy, and I know what you're saying about choices back then.

I know Mama did her best and I did love her dearly even when I wished she could 'save' us.

Not having a father as the first 'guy' in my life sure lead me to make bad choices, too. Think I was craving attention from any man.

I appreciate why you felt the need to share this, too, and I thank you.

For me, those inside scars are worse than the visible ones I have. But we survive nonetheless, right? :)

Ron, My brother has never tasted any alcoholic beverage. I have, but put the brakes on at 2 drinks as a fear of losing control.
I chuckled (although I know better) at the story of your neighbor. I am glad he was a bachelor.

I also had an alcoholic dad....but I wasn't much effected by it...I was sad to see him live like he did..

But when my mother passed away I went to live with my aunt. She stood by about 5 months before she took me in. I think she was hoping his drinking was because of the loss of my mother. Dad didn't drink much while mom was there because she kept a tight rein on all the money and didn't give him enough to buy it....lol

I was one of the lucky ones.

My dad lived to be in his 80's but he never had anything. Even lived in open door missions (or was that just a name for the one in our area)

It's a terrible evil that consumes lives.

patti

My dad was a functional alcoholic. He managed to hold his job and be an outstanding employee. Since I was an only child, money was never a problem. My parents always had plenty of money in savings. My dad never drove drunk because he was a truck driver and needed a good record. He would call my mom to pick him up at the bar. My mom spent plenty of time in the bar with him and sometimes I was there also.
My dad never had time for me. If I wanted to tell him about school or friends he would say "Be quiet, I am reading the paper, watching TV or whatever". I never learned to trust men or expect them to have time for me. My dad died at 60 from heart disease. I was only 24 when he died.

Seems like many of us have alcohol problems in our families, including myself. I'm so very sorry for each one of you who suffered an alcoholic parent or spouse. One thing I cannot stand is bars; don't even like to walk past one.

Anyone watch 60 Minutes last Sunday? There really should be harsher punishments for drunk drivers. We tolerate too much.

Anyone read The Glass Castle? Seems like you could have written it, Linda! In the book Jeannette Walls does not seem angry or to pass judgment on her father. It's an interesting story, a easy read, but not a topic many of you may wish to read about.

Kathy, have you gone to counseling to speak with someone about this? Have you ever been able to forgive your father for your poor upbringing? I know that would be very hard, but I watched a football player on tv the other day who was raised by an abusive drunk and saw the love he has for his father, and that his dad has now been sober for 15 years and he forgave his father. He said he'll never forget, but he did forgive. you have to do that to get on with your life.

I was lucky in that I have NEVER seen my parents drunk. I did see them drink. But they were and still are to this day, social drinkers who are responsible. Because of this respect for their children, I passed that on to my children. I refused to ever let my kids see us drunk. My husband tried when my kids were small, but he saw how important it was to me to always be sober in front of the kids so he always waited until they were in bed before he had that 'extra' drink.

My father was raised by an alcoholic father and step mother. His brother became an alcoholic too. My niece is now seven years sober. Funny thing about her is, she was adopted to another family, so she didn't even know that alcoholism runs in her blood.

I can't imagine what it is like to live with someone who is so selfish that they put their drunken needs and self pity ahead of their spouse or children. But I do think it's very important for the children of those people, to get the help they need to move on and be better people.

I hope this is coming out of my fingers right. It's so hard to explain what I mean in print. Probably why I never did write that Pulitzer prize winning novel...... =o)

I wonder if it's that uncommon that my mother was the drunk in my family -
when we were kids (there are 3 of us) we had to be very careful when we came home from school - if she was drunk she could get nasty in a split second. Had my head punched in a number of times. She would hide booze in any available container so when we went to wash our hair we had to check first if it was shampoo or rum in the bottle. I remember my brother going around the house on numerous occasions dumping out her stashes. We went without food and clothes so she could drink. I remember getting a winter jacket bought for me from a complete stranger when I was seen walking to school in a thin hoody type jacket in a snow storm. We weren't allowed to eat food without asking as she bought carefully to hide the fact that most of the food budget went to alcohol - my dear denying father didn't catch on or chose not to when his stomach was full.
To this day I buy butter and nice cheeses and other comfort foods because I can and no one will tell me I am not allowed to eat it.
She died when she was 60 after drinking a bottle of bleach in a desperate attempt to keep the high going. It was a tragic waste of a life.
My father denied the problem for many years, we always got the strap for money missing out of his wallet. We were all adults and living on our own before he realized where the money was actually going and apologized to all of us for blaming us.
As adults we siblings do drink, but never more than a glass or two of wine with dinner or the occasional social drink.
I would not wish the alcoholic life on anyone.
Suzan J

Painful memories. I was fortunate...even tho my father drank when he was young, he had quit by the time I was born...he was
42 when I was born. So, I didn't grow up around drinking at all. I lived in a Quaker community and no cigarettes were sold in town, much less beer.

However, my husband's father was an alcoholic. His father was already an old man when he married my husband's mother, and they had 6 children in 6 years and the then the baby died, and then the mother died, leaving a man in his 70's to
take care of 5 little children.

They were poor and he drank and when he did, his personality changed and he would throw fits and cuss and God knows what.
My husband said his father used to hide his bottles of whiskey in the tool shed, and he would go out there and break the bottles with a wrench, so the old man would think something had fallen and broken it. How sad to have to do something like that.

He died when my husband was 12 and the 5 children were split among two uncles. Of the 5, only one ever drank, and he became an alcoholic and drug addict. He is so messed up now
that he is basically a functioning idiot. My husband is 62 and never drank even a beer in his whole life.

My husband's deckhand is in the hospital right now, will be dead any day. Hospice is there....cirrohsis of the liver.
Lost his family. Wife took his children and moved away. Lost everything he had. Homeless, my husband hired him to do a little work on the boat and let him live on the boat.

I take care of an old man who is an alcoholic. He used to drink whiskey but now he drinks cheap wine. He drinks and won't eat and then he gets diarrhea. He also smokes and has emphysema so bad that he can't do anything. I do all of his work...clean his house, mow his grass, laundry, pay his bills, and have to mop up the messes when he can't make it to the bathroom.

It is hard enough now a days to raise a child. There are so many more things that they can get into and bad influences.
I grew up in a sheltered life with two stable parents. I
know your upbringing affects you in so many ways. I can't imagine what it would have been like to grow up in abuse with an alcoholic mother or father.

I met my SO for the first time at a restaurant/bar and he was drinking tonic and lemon and I immediately asked him if he was an alcoholic, and he said he was a recovering alcoholic. He had been married 42 years when his wife finally divorced him, although she was an enabler in that she would leave small amounts of money in his pockets for him to buy alcohol. His youngest daughter would not speak to him because he embarassed her in front of her friends when she was a teenager and she never forgave him.

Several years in the VA Hospital and going to AA meetings finally did the trick. Oh the stories he would tell me. Kathy, you said your brother never took a drink. My friend told me about a friend of his whose father was an alcoholic and when he knew him wouldn't touch alcohol. Years later he found that the friend was now an alcoholic.

He was still friends with his ex-wife and we visited her in the state where she lived and one time, when he moved, she came to help him move. I think she divorced him to get him to the state where he had to help himself. He said to me that he was too proud to live on the streets, which is what happened to him until he sought help. Luckily, he was a veteran and went into the VA Hospital.

Well said, all of you. We had several alcoholics in my extended family, and I feel blessed that it skipped my parents and me. I heard some of the stories as I grew up, and they're all amazingly similar, aren't they? I remember when the problems associated with children of alcoholics became recognized, and when support groups started for these adult children.

One of my relatives was a "quiet drunk." She started in the morning, and kept going. But she remained completely functional, at least as it would appear to an observer. I was in that house quite a bit, and I never suspected that she drank. But her kids knew, and they watched her "wet brain" slowly deteriorate.

Yes, it certainly is naive (or worse) to think alcoholism doesn't affect the children.

My dad was an alcoholic too. He used to tend bar at the CPO club on base and after he retired from the Navy, he worked at various bars in town. Then on nights he didn't work or after he got off, he'd hang out with his buddies. I don't know how he made it home some nights.

I don't know how he made it to 79 either. He hit a cow once in a little Toyota Corolla and landed in an irrigation ditch.

He forgot to pick me up a few times when I was working as a teenager, I got off at 1:00 or 2:00 am some nights and had to either call the only cab (if I got enough tips) if not I walked home. It was scary because I worked in a casino and the worst of the town seemed to hang out there at the bar and in the casino. Once he did pick me up and was so drunk he kept going over on the other side of the road, I kept telling him and he eventually got us home ok.

I got into the habit of staying up all night waiting to hear my dad come home. Then I could go to sleep. Sometimes I'd wake up in the middle of the night and smoke would be coming from the kitchen. He'd have a steak in a frying pan with the gas burner turned all the way up and be passed out on the couch. I still stay up half the night from habit on my days off and am a very light sleeper.

One night he didn't come home, no one said anything. I have two brothers and my mom was there. He was gone for three days. I found out he had a DUI and was in jail, after I read about it in the local paper.

I didn't leave home until I was 21, I think I was afraid to. Like I could keep my dad from dying if I was around to make sure he made it home. I finally realized I had to get out of there. I love my dad but wish he had quit drinking years ago, when I was still at home. He finally did quit, cold turkey after he started having uncontrolled diahrrea. I was home visiting from the Air Force and we were in the kitchen and he got really embarrassed. I went back and he later called and told me he stopped drinking. I didn't believe it. He even quit hanging out and hunting and fishing with his buddies because they were a bad influence. He knew he'd never be able to quit if he didn't stay away from them.

I'm a nurse now and have seen dozens of patients die from alcoholism. It's a nasty way to go. Everytime I take care of one of them I think about my dad.

What a terrible disease. There are many families that suffer because of this. I never had it in my immediate family but I know lots of people who are definitely alcoholics

I forgot to add in my statement above that my friend finally got cancer of the mouth because of drinking and smoking. His type of cancer is quite common with drinkers and smokers. The last years of his life he lived on coffee and Ensure, but he did live a number of years, about 8, on that regime. He was satisfied with the Ensure and did not care for soups or ice cream, etc.

I'm another child of a drunk father and a mean drunk at that. I can relate to so many of what you all have said. The never having a sleepover at our house, didn't like talking on the phone because of all the yelling and my friends would hear him. The ruined birthdays and holidays. Being pulled over by the police for dwi. Having to pick him up in jail. (One of the policemen was a friend of ours and knew dad), never having enough money, and the list goes on. He eventually died from his drinking and smoking both he never stopped even though the doctors told him he would die from it. He was selfish and only thought of his needs, didn't even want to make an attempt at stopping his drinking. I haven't responded to the drunk mom/drama queen posts because frankly I have no sympathy for her. She chooses that lifestyle. It's the kids I worry about. Hoping they won't have to go through what many of us here have gone through. When my father died from his drinking I cried for about an hour and then I felt relief. Relief that he was gone and my family would not have to put up with him any longer. It felt like a big boulder had been lifted off my shoulder. We actually had a good holiday for the first time in a long time without him there. Harsh sounding, yeah probably, but the truth. I believe my mom has had a better life without him, she was able to go out with her friends socially after he died. She was able to get her drivers license at the age of 50 I think it was. Dad had always said no she didn't need one. We kids (6 of us) could drive her were she needed to go. We kids were more happy as we got older also. One thing I am so thankful for is not one of us has a drinking problem. Don't ask me how that happened. Maybe we were so disgusted with it all we never developed the need or want for it...and my mom never drank. To see her take a sip of beer or wine was a jaw dropping event! So the only prayers I will be sending out is for the children. They need them the most. NancyLouise

I have to add something. My dad was never mean when he was drunk, unless you count some politician on tv he would cuss at. He also always provided for us. We were never rich and thank goodness he has his military retirement check and social security now, otherwise he would have no savings but he did take care of us with a home and food. Maybe not emotionally.

What sad stories from so many that have lived with alcoholics as part of the family. I had an ideal childhood, that I am thankful for, but several of my cousins didn't. Their alcoholic Fathers made their lives a living hell most of the time.

But one Uncle finally did the right thing. He and his wife had one child, a girl, early in the marriage. Uncle never left anyone forget that he wanted a son more than anything. He often in his drunken stupor, said that if anything could make him quit drinking it would be a son. When the daughter was 17 years old a son was born. A big surprise, and uncle did quit drinking...for about 2 months, then he went on a 3 day bender. When he came home, aunt lit into him as she had never done before. He, as usual, left the house slamming the door. The next thing aunt heard was the blast of the shot gun that he used to finally end his drinking. His head was splattered all over the side of the house. He finally did the right thing for his family.

My father was an alcoholic too and I can relate very well to alot of what you write. Mine was also 45 when he died from a brain tumor. He was given an ultimatim by my mom, to go to AA, but he didn't do it before she filed for divorce. He did stop soon after, but it was too late.

I can sympathize with you since my childhood was horrible, from what I can even remember of it (I've blocked alot out). I remember many nights going to bed starving because we had no money to eat. I remember wearing sneakers to gym class that were duct taped together - literally. I remember him coming home drunk and fighting w/ mom, and us 5 kids were too young to do anything. I remember hearing the phone ring in the middle of the night and the calls were always the same, if you know what I mean. I dreaded hearing that phone ring! He always said mom "drove him to drink".

He totaled many cars, never brought home money, lost his job, his wife, his friends, his home (though it was rented), all of his kids, but never lost me.

If I had one wish, it would be to have him present for just one day. I was his favorite and he was mine. Despite his drinking, he really was a great man. New Year's Day was 30 years since he's been gone and I still think of him daily and his picture sits on my desk.

I can only say that I hope your childhood and living with a drunk have made you a stronger person as they have made me.

I'm the daughter of a drunk. I am the grandaughter of a drunk.
Memories of full dinner plates thrown against the wall because they were cold. (he was late, dinner in oven)
Begging mom to take us into town with her, so as not to have to be alone with him.
The Christmas our santa presents were tennis shoes because mom's S&H green stamps were stolen.
Sitting huddled up on the couch, not being able to breathe waiting for the sound of the gun to go off, dad slamming out to the truck to "shoot his brains out" because he said "nobody loved him".
Sagging into that same couch as he walked back into the door, disappointed he didn't follow thru.
Owing so much money to the corner grocer, yet sending one of the kids in to ask for bread anyway.
"Borrowing" babysitting money to buy milk and never getting that money back.
Feeling scared 90% of the time. And that it was my fault he drank. Because if it weren't for the stress of a family he wouldn't do that right?
What did all of this teach me? Not to trust a man.
Not one of the four of us drinks. And were all well into our 50's. I've come to terms with the scars he left, my older sister? Not so lucky.

If you're a drunk and reading these postings...makes you want another drink, yes?

Thanks, everyone, for all you've shared. Although I grew up with an alcoholic dad, he did sober up and was sober when he died. I was 33 when he died and he'd been sober for about 12 years. In those last 12 years, he tried very hard to make up for alot of what happened in my earlier life. But because I was still drinking, and getting worse, real true forgiveness just didn't happen. I was still angry and hostile toward him and that lasted for a number of years after he died (also of a brain tumor). In hindsight now, though, I never would have started to sober up myself if he hadn't died. I've done alot of work on forgiveness both to my dad and to myself since I sobered up, all part of the AA steps. I've spent alot of my adult life getting past, over and through growing up with a drunk. None of the progress I've made or the happiness that I experience today would have happened without AA and therapy.

My mom's brother (Tio Carlos, early fifties when I first met him)), was a functioning alcoholic. It would get bad on the weekends only when he partied with his friends. His wife eventually left him and took their only daughter... He became involved in a few car wrecks but managed to walk away and so did the others, thank God. He had a really bad accident one yr. around the month of Oct. On Dec. 24th, he never made it to dinner at our house and we went to check on him. We peeked throught the window of his studio apartment and could see him lying on the floor. He'd been dead for hours. Turns out he threw a clot he acquired when he had that accident in Oct. It lay silent in his head until it blew... massive stroke. Dead at the young age of 56... thanks to a car accident he had while DUI!

I did not grow up with parents who were alcoholics, but much of what you are relating still rings true to me. I grew up with a father with mental illness--severe depression--in a time when it was, at least to my family, a social stigma, something that made us odd and isolated. My mother couldn't cope and was constantly on edge. My parents either fought in bouts of explosive frustration or anger, or they went for months with the silent treatment between them, utter coldness, using us kids as go betweens. I remember going for days, even weeks, with no one speaking to each other at all in the family: we kids imbibed the coldness and kept to ourselves. My mother put food on the table but ate in the kitchen by herself; we ate just watching the TV. I never once remember a happy or interesting dinner conversation. As someone else mentioned here, I spent my entire childhood in fear and insecurity. I never learned to argue clearly, express anger or fight fair and I still resort to coldness or passive aggression when challenged or angered, a habit I've tried hard to break. The fact that three of us four kids (now in outs 40s and 50s) have never married says a lot about how none of us learned to trust anyone but ourselves.

I think it is good that people can talk about it now and not hide it away in the closet. I remember growing up in the 50's and people didn't talk about it. My dad's father was an alcoholic. My dad had some really bad stories, like how his father would disappear for weeks and the older kids had to take care of the younger ones because their mother had died and their father was gone. He grew up fast and hard. He only had a couple of bad incidents with drinking a little too much. Most of the time he had one drink only and that was it. He didn't want to be like his dad.

Unfortunately one of my brother's inherited the gene and it has ruined his life. He has lost countless jobs, a really good woman that was his wife, his daughter which he never saw grow up. I am glad she got out and saved the child from having such a rotten life. He now has lost his licence to drive permanately because of too many DUI's. He also has been in jail because of it. I am just glad he never killed anyone by driving while drunk.

We have all tried to support and help him, but he has worn out his welcome with everyone in the family. He just uses everyone to either get money from or to constantly complain to and say how unfair life is. He had everything, brains, looks, a college degree which our parents paid for and at one time a very good job. A few years ago our Mom gave him five thousand dollars to check into rehab and he went to Bermuda with a girlfriend instead. He is 62 and his life is in the toliet because of his drinking. Where he will go from here is anyone's guess. No one in the family with have anything to do with him.
Clare

How much suffering this horrible possession causes in the world. I don't believe it is a disease of the body. It is a problem of the soul. That is why AA has been most successful, because you have to acknowledge your faults and ask for the help of a HIGHER POWER...The Lord.

I have a beloved DS who is married to an alcoholic.
Her life and the lives of her sons differ only in the details you've shared, the theme is the same. The fear, the attacks. The hiding in closets. The broken window and thrown objects. The self-soiling. The hoarded money.

They are now in their seventies. My DS is tall and strong and beautiful. The Lord God has given her strength to endure and even triumph. Her husband is a wreck, a shell of a man. Pititful, pitiful.

Cream

I've been hesitant to post here, because usually I'm a private person although lately I've been telling more personal things than I ever thought I would.

I'm another child of a drunk father. He was mean, but he was also mean when he was sober. I later heard that he was abused as a child, but I don't know for sure.
My dad was physically as well as verbally and emotionally abusive. The only compliment he ever paid me was when he overheard me answer the phone. Whomever the phone call was for wasn't there. I told the person on the other end they weren't there and asked if I could take a message or a phone number to give them when they got home. When I hung up my dad told me he was glad to know I wasn't a total idiot when using the phone. That was the one and only compliment I ever heard.
We moved so many times because we were evicted or because they skipped out on the rent in the middle of the night.
We never owned an automobile. It was back in the 1950s and a lot of people didn't drive cars, but all our friends had cars. I never dared to ask questions about that or anything for that matter.
We were taught that adults were always right and kids were always wrong in a disagreement.
I grew to hate the sneer on my dad's face when he knew we had done something and needed to get a spanking. He seemed to delight in it so much. Sometimes it was for such a horrible infraction as leaving a bite or two of bread on the plate instead of eating it. Sometimes it was for eating the yellow of a fried egg before eating the white. You know, serious stuff like that.
I remember one time when I was determined I was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry when I got a whipping. I took it and took it until I thought I was going to collapse. He wasn't going to quit until I cried. He won.

He used to hit my mother. Most of the time when we moved from rental to rental we moved back to my grand dad's house in the interim. He always welcomed us because he was a very precious, sweet man who loved his grand kids so much. My grand dad was a small man and my dad was a large man. My dad never picked on us when my grand dad was around and he didn't pick on my grand dad. I think that's because he knew we could come back there when we had no other place to live. I did hear him tell some of his drinking buddies about he whipped my grand dad's a$$ though.
We never had friends come in the house when he was home. He loved to insult them and embarass us. I had one friend who had been severely burned when she was very young. She was extremely scarred. He once told her she looked like a freak.
I spent the night with a friend when I was about 10 years old. I remember her hugging and kissing her parents good night before we went to bed. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I know I must have had my mouth open staring at them. Then her parents asked me to give them a hug. I had never thought anything like that ever really happened in real life. I kinda liked that.

This is becoming way too long, so I'll try to cut it short. My mom and dad got a divorce when I was 14. My mother and us kids were living with my grandfather. A few months later my mother and her then boyfriend disappeared one night and were not heard from again for almost 4 years. They didn't have computers back then, but I spent almost every weekend for that whole 4 years at the library looking for my mother. I wrote to city halls in who knows how many cities in the area. I wrote to hospitals and to vital statistics records. My mother had legal custody of us, but when she left my granddad was afraid my dad was going to get us. He knew by then that we were being abused. He was retired and went back to work a full time job so he could afford to raise us himself. He went to court and got legal custody of us. I heard him cry one night and thought he was crying because he missed my mother, his daughter. I now relaize that those were probably tears of frustration and fear on his part. If I had known that then I probably wouldn't have spent so much time looking for my mother. We were used to not feeling loved or wanted, so it wasn't that big a deal. My mother wasn't an alcoholic; she just had no backbone.

One of my dad's wives called me one time and asked me to consider seeing him. She said he had changed a lot. He had recently had a heart attack. I was 30 something years old by then and chose not to, but I kept the phone number she gave me. A few months later she called me and told me she was glad I didn't try to see him because she found out first hand that he hadn't changed after all.

In June, 1991 my favorite aunt called me( his sister ) and told me that my dad has finally grown up and had told her how sorry he was that he mistreated us so much. He had quit drinking. He wanted to talk to me and to see me. I told her that I wasn't sure. I wanted to think about it. He had heart disease and was pretty sick. I worked 11pm to 7am shift. Many mornings I would go to a Kettle restaurant with a bunch of women co-workers and an occasional man from work. We became friends with the waitress and the manager and went there often. The Kettle restaurant was on Brooks Road in Memphis. It took about 5 minutes to leave work, get on the interstate, go past a couple of exits and get off and turn into the parking lot at the Kettle. My aunt told me that my dad went to the Kettle every morning of his life to drink coffee with a couple of friends at about 7:30 to 9. That's the time I was there!!! I wondered what he looked like. I wasn't sure I wanted to see him. I was about 10 pounds overweight at that time and I worried about him ridiculing me in front of my co-worker friends or his friends. I had told my best friend about my life with my dad and about him being at the Kettle. I wanted to see him if he had really changed, but I was so afraid. I think I had always secretely wanted to be a daddy's girl and wondered if this was my chance. I was 44 years old at this time. My aunt had given me my dad's address. It was an apartment complex. I went to the complex and stared at his door. For a few days I went there straight from work every morning. Since I didn't see anyone who I thought might be him at the restaurant I wanted to see him leave his apartment. I never saw him leave. I called my aunt and asked if she was sure he went to the Kettle restaurant and she was positive he did. She wasn't sure what kind if car he drove, but she knew it was marroon. My best friend and I sat there in the restaurant for a few mornings looking for 63 year old white men in a marroon car.
I finally got brave and decided I was going to find him and approach him no matter what. It was the day before Father's Day. I stopped by the store after work and bought a small bouquet of flowers. I was ready to face him and just hope he wouldn't call me fat or ugly. I had the bouquet of flowers to give him as a peace offering and as a Father's Day gift. I went without my friend. I had decided to approach every man there that could even remotely resemble him. I did that and no one there had his name. I gave up. I told my aunt that he was never at that restaurant when I was there. Three weeks later he died. My uncle found him one evening after some friends called because they hadn't heard from him. He had a heart attack and was on the floor in his bedroom.

I went to his funeral and you know what, except for thinner hair he looked exactly like I remembered him. That's the day I found out that there were two Kettle Restaurants within a couple of blocks of each other on Brooks Road in Memphis. I never knew that other one was there because when I got off the interstate the one I went to was right at the exit and I never had the occasion to pass by the other one or go into that neighborhood. Our seeing each other again and making peace was obviously not meant to be. I truly hope he changed his ways. Sometimes it still makes me sad to have never been his best girl, but life goes on.

Linda

Can you imagine all the stories that will be told in years to come about what it was like to grow up living with a drug addict? It is just a matter of time.

I have to say despite the way we kids (my brothers and sister) had to grow up we all did better for our own kids once we started having them. None of them (my nieces,nephews and my own 2 daughters) had to go through what we did. They all have drunk free parents and were put as a priority in their family. We knew how it felt so we didn't want to put our own children through it I guess. One thing we (my brothers and sister) all do suffer from though is we do not sleep through the night. We usually wake up sometime in the early morning and find it hard to get back to sleep. I think it is because dad would go on his drunken tyrants many times light at night and come yelling into our rooms waking us up. So we all became light sleepers. But other then that we have all turned out to be productive, happy people that are close nit. You can either choose to let drunks beat you down or rise above them and do better in your own life. We all chose to be better then my dad. NancyLouise

nancylouise says "You can either choose to let drunks beat you down or rise above them and do better in your own life."

I agree with you so much nancylouise. Although I made my share of mistakes, just as any other parent have done, I learned what kind of parent not to be and my family has never feared me or felt unloved.
Linda

My heart just aches for all of you that had a horrible childhood. I wish I could give each and every one of you a big, long hug...God love you all.

Deb

Well said Nancy and Linda.......I strove to be the very best parent I could. Hugs and kisses and lots of I love yous. I made major mistakes as a Mom...but, my children are loved,respected and like Linda said, they never had reason to fear me. Bless all who have faced any and all uncertainty and/or adversity in their lives.....like lots of others I choose to become the best person I possibly could....its been a bumpy road sometimes...but I am a survivor. Thank you all for sharing your lives......

~Kathy~

I am deeply touched by your heart rending stories. I'd like to recommend a wonderful little book called "The Glass Castle" by Jeannette Walls. It's a memoir by the child of an alcoholic. It's bittersweet and demonstrates the resilience of the human spirit.

Nancy and Linda...your comments remind me of a dear friend. She and I were neighbors for many years until her husband's factory closed and they were offered a transfer.
She was one of the most gracious people I've ever known. She and her husband had the gift of hospitality and I learned so much from them.
Her background included a miserable alcoholic father and an intimidated mother.
My friend worked hard to make her home everything her childhood was not and she was a glorious success! She had close friends. Her children were happy. Her home was welcoming to young and old. It was a privilege to be counted as one of her friends.
The father eventually died and my friends' mother had a few years of peace before she also died.
So, to those of you who chose a different path, I know it was not easy, but your legacy in the world will be one for good and not evil.
Cream

I usually don't read a long thread like this one all the way thru,But this time I did.All I can say is God Bless you all. I didn't grow up with drunks but did come from a broken home.One of these days I want to start a thread like that.

I am also a child of an alcoholic father who was functioning as a person who put a roof over our heads (9 kids) food on the table. Mental and physical abuse was a weekend pastime for all of us. The only time was when dad was playing around with his girlfriends and his-their kids. Yes we knew there were kids that dad fathered.
I remember the 7th grade when I went to 3 different schools when mom and dad seperated and being sexually abused by a friend of my mothers. How can a person begin to trust people when this has happened to them and their siblings. Dad shocked me when he bought in a girlfriend to my house and she said dad had her put up in an apartment so he had someplace to go, and the girl was my age...

Wow. I am stunned at all the brave posts here. I surely have a lot of company and many of your lives sound much, much worse than mine. Hugs and prayers. I see many wounded souls who rose above your sad upbringings. No child should ever had to face what we have been through. It's so sad.
Thanks so much for sharing your stories, Kathy