I'll spare you the dirty details. Some are just too painful to type out. Some are just too heartbreaking. There are some significant times, and I'll share those. Or as much as I feel comfortable. I don't want anyone reading this to cry, or feel uncomfortable. There will be some uncomfortable moments, they are needed to fully appreciate this story.
Growing up was...rough. My mom worked full time, sometimes held 2 jobs. I barely saw her during the work week. I was left alone at an early age and left alone with my toddler brother well before I was capable. My father couldn't keep a job, unless you count drinking beer and smoking a job and then he was the employee of the month. There were drugs involved and for the longest time I thought cookie sheets were only used as a tray to divide, measure and roll them up. The drugs, obviously. My job was to stay out of his way, make sure the house was cleaned, and not do anything to upset him.
I don't remember much before my brother was born, but I do remember after. I felt like that was a turning point in my father's relationship with me. I didn't know why at the time, as I was only seven but something changed, something bad. As I'm typing this, I am trying to remember any real, good moments I had with my father as a child. I can't think of a single one. Sure, there were some happy moments, alcohol can make you happy until you hit that point where you either go angry or go emotional. I'll give you one guess which way happened most often. It's said that the sense of smell holds strong in your memory and smelling something again will remind you of that time. The smell of liquor and cigarettes reminds me of my childhood.
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