A few years ago, I was asked “what is the most important quality you look for in a teammate, whether at work or otherwise (i.e., sports)?”

My answer: accountability.

Essentially, the ability to reflect on the agency or team’s performance, and yourself as a part of that system – and take ownership over areas you can improve. 

If I was asked today “what is the quality missing the most in 21^st century American society?”

My answer: accountability.

It seems that many humans have lost the ability to assume responsibility for where they are in life – and instead of looking in the mirror, reflecting and generating a plan to succeed – many have transformed themselves into victims of other people, systems, or entities.  Then, instead of looking in the mirror – they point the finger – and the modern-day two-party system, particularly the Democrats, fuel the narrative that certain groups are victims, and should view themselves as such.  And that magically, this other group, is the victimizer, but they don’t know it.  

It’s not only a mistruth – it’s an intentional effort to keep people angry and scared, which has resulted in a chaotic country, filled with loud voices and no reasonable plan to improve as a nation.

For example, social media is being blamed for being a danger to children.  Ok, maybe social media isn’t constructive for children – I can agree with that.  But, my next question is “where are the parents?”  I have two children, and there is no way in hell they are signing up for social media – they can make that choice when they are full-grown adults, with a full-grown job. 

So, we have a group of parents who are mad at social media companies for “damaging their children” but blaming the object does not address the root cause.  In reality, the real issue is the parent who helped their child register, clicked the confirmation email – and paid the smart phone bill for their 11-year-old so they can play on TikTok for 5-hours per day.  It’s like crashing a car because you weren’t paying attention – then blaming the car for the accident. 

Or, you have groups of children and young adults being told they are victims of these systems that exist in America – and due to no fault of their own, that is why life is so tough.  In fact, they are told, this other group of people intentionally tries to hold them down.  Well, that is simply false – and another example of younger, entitled generations using systems and people as scapegoats for, often times, the lack of direction and motivation within their own universe.  It is simply easier to blame something else – remove accountability and be around others that feel the same way.  Misery loves company. 

I was born in the early 80’s.  I never lived during the time of slavery or segregation – and was born decades after the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964, followed a year later by the Voting Rights Act.  I, along with most other students in America, learned about the horrors of slavery and segregation.  We learned about the underground railroad – and the battles fought to obtain equal rights for all.  We learned about the Holocaust, and the darker moments that reside in the history of this nation, and the world at-large.  We were taught that all people are created equally – and that made so much sense to me – and seemingly to others, regardless of color, that I went to school with.  Is everyone perfect?  No.  Is there racism and hate that still exists?  Yes.  Is it embedded in our systems? In my opinion, no – unless someone can point out where one law applies to another group differently.  It does not exist.

For groups to come out today – and generalize other groups in the name of “equality” is just wrong.  To ignore the progress this country has made – and act as if systems actively work against certain people, and benefit others, is just wrong.  Go ask the household in rural America how privileged they feel after working their hands to the bone in a coal-mine – or manufacturing plant.

The fact is, people have much more in common than they realize – and these discussions, whether around social media or race relations, has everyone arguing their point – but not coming together around actual solutions.  We are not acting as individuals anymore who think for ourselves – we are latching on to groups, and adopting a group thought process.  White or people of color – vaccinated or unvaccinated – Trump supporter or progressive.  We are now assigned to groups – and depending on what group we are assigned, will determine your levels of freedom, depending on where you live.

It is insanity – and in my four decades on this earth – I have never experienced the sort of discourse we are experiencing now, and how discussions (really, yelling matches) during the last two-years have devolved into hollering matches between these various groups – and no one will take accountability, and be the damn adult in the room.

I tell my daughters “this isn’t the way it has to be.”  Adults are currently modeling the worst types of behaviors for our youth – transforming them into miniature activists, asking them to yell about things they don’t comprehend – and they just watch us wondering “is this normal?”

Our younger generations need us to be accountable for the plethora of unaddressed issues in this country – and we have to stop throwing them into the middle of the culture wars. 

Until we can look in the mirror and self-reflect – which I don’t see happening anytime soon – we will go deeper into this rabbit hole – and when we get there, the rabbit will ask “is this the best you can do?”

A person who is accountable will respond: “absolutely not.”

I want you to know that I love you more than you can possibly imagine. It’s impossible to quantify – but I assume my unconditional love for you is as vast as the Milky Way Galaxy, multiplied by two-hundred million. Before you, I was aimlessly wandering around without purpose or direction. I drank a lot – and most weekends between the ages of 18 to 28 are just a blur in the memory bank.

Lila – when I held you for the first time, it changed me forever. It started a slow progression from sad and lonely alcoholic to sober and productive Dad. You injected so much purpose and meaning into my life – it filled me with such an amazing warmth that continues to grow today. You’re also 12.5 years old now – so you play video games a lot, but I will always cherish when you thought I was the coolest dude around…not just the guy who cooks you meals and drops you off at school. Oh, and reminds you to put on deodorant, because you’re mature enough now to have some serious body odor (I won’t tell anyone).

Lucy – I never thought I would have another child, if I am being honest. Lila kept me busy, and one child creates enough stress as it is. HOWEVER, a wonderful and amazing woman, your mom, swiped right on my profile and the rest is history. We have been together for 7 years, living together for 6 and you arrived on December 29, 2019. I didn’t expect to have another child – but I am so grateful you were born. I wasn’t sure if I could love another human as much as I do Lila – but after holding you, and getting to know your amazing personality…it’s clear to me that I love you just as much. I couldn’t imagine living without either of you, which is the point of this post.

I’m going to die one day. I don’t know when – it could be tomorrow, or it could be 50-years from now. The point is that life is unpredictable, and I need you to have something you can reference, where I talk you through accepting this reality. My main objective as a parent is to love you with all of my heart and soul, and not spoil you to the extent you become entitled brats that expect everyone to do things for you. I want you both to be self-sufficient, independent and fierce – and in order to achieve that, I must be as honest as possible.

I think about mortality a lot, especially since becoming a parent. My worst fear is that I will not be here to protect you – so I need to know that you can protect yourself. My other worst fear is that you won’t be provided for – so I need to know that you can provide for yourself. You see, in this world, you’re on your own in a lot of cases – despite what people tell you. A Facebook “like” or nice comment isn’t actual support – it’s lazy and artificial attempts to socialize and connect, mostly with people who you never see in reality.

If I were to go tomorrow – I would want you both to know that being around you, in your presence – is a feeling I constantly cherish in the moment, and miss when we’re apart. I would want you to know that whether I die at 41 years old, or 100 years old, it’s not any easier to process the loss of a loved one. But, you can accept it – with the understanding that we will be together again – and I will always be closer than you think. I truly believe that this is one of many lifetimes we live – we just didn’t spontaneously arrive, only to exist for such a short period of time. No, we’ve been together in past lives, in the present time and will be together again in a future life.

I want you to know that your happiness is so important to me – and when you’re feeling out of sorts about things – think of all the crazy times we shared. Lila convincing me to go on crazy scary rides at the beach – and me volunteering at her school for 5-years. Flying to Pennsylvania each year to visit mom-mom and pop-pop, and all of the cousins. Holidays, movie nights (especially the terrible scary movies), beach weeks and the millions of laughs we shared.

I want you to know that I will try to be as healthy as possible – so I am on this earth for many more years. But, the fact is, tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us. So, pick this note up when that time comes, and you’re feeling down. Just know that, in time, we will be together again – laughing, and getting reacquainted.

I love you both in this life and the next,

Dad

I look at my two beautiful daughters, and my amazing partner – and I sometimes can’t help but feel guilty for not being able to buffer them more from the every-day tension and hollering this nation has been experiencing since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic.  I know politics in America has rarely been cordial – but the last 19-months has been a horrendous journey for this country, in many ways. 

Sadly, much of the hollering and anger has come from the failed two-party system in America – a system that no longer recruits support/votes based on great policy and law-making but uses the toxicity of anger and fear to gather momentum.  A system that is content with dividing the country into two-parts, and doing their best to only appeal to 51% of the population – which always leaves 49% feeling left out of the discussion. 

A system that I call the “Perpetual Negation of Progress” as every four to eight years the country experiences a shift in power – from one incompetent group to another.  Is red or blue running the show for the next term?  And, it’s inevitable the new group, who spent four-years degrading the other group, will undo what the previous administration had done – even if what was done is popular amongst the populous…negating any resemblance of progress.

How do we move forward, in a more productive way, as a country – if the two major political parties who have been around since the 1800’s, utilize misinformation, anger and fear campaigns to achieve their ultimate goal, which is power over the population?  How can we trust either Democrat’s or Republican’s to have the entire nations best interest as the priority, all of the time – not just half of the nation for four to eight years?  How can we not see the blatant elitism that exists in Washington DC, and every state in the union? Well, because the elite have and always will make the laws that benefit their own – while pitting the poor, working and middle class against each-other.  I feel, especially in California, that is exactly what the democratic party has done for generations.

In 2018, the LA times ran an article titled “California’s members of Congress are worth at least $439 million.” 

To reinforce this point – and this will include a few members of the California political elite that aren’t just in Congress – but names that will assist in validating this point:

Net Worth by Politician:

• Gavin Newsom: $20 million
• Ro Khanna: $27 million
• Diane Feinstein: $58 million
• Nancy Pelosi: $100 million

This is just the tip of the iceberg for California representatives – either state or federal – and this isn’t unique to California, either.  Elite members of our communities (we call them politicians) continue to make laws and policies that benefit them – while they throw some peanuts at the broader community (maybe Universal Basic Income, or Food Assistance) to keep them voting, and content.  Not successful enough to build wealth and own a home, car, etc., – but just enough to keep them quiet, and angry at the other side.  This is the political approach for many of the elected elites – who often times can’t get elected without millions in disposable income to effectively campaign.

Look, if I was super rich – I would also yearn for power, creating laws and rules that benefit me, while the peasants fight for toilet paper on the shelves of Costco.  I wouldn’t mind driving my $100,000 car to my multi-million-dollar mansion in a gated community – where I drop my kids off at the best schools in the country, and eat at the fanciest restaurants. A community that has private security, and you won’t see homeless people shooting or smoking drugs on your sidewalk, right after taking a poop on your porch (sad, but true).  One bill from the extravagant French Laundry could cover the monthly food cost for most families in the state of California – I’m sure the food is delicious – maybe Newsom will share with me if I show him my vaccine passport. 

I suppose my point is – how can you address pressing issues and priorities if you have no idea how to empathize with the general population – and have never, not even slightly, walked in our shoes?  How can you create a political landscape that is designed to exclude entire groups, yet say you can effectively represent an entire region or country?  Why is it that we group each-other into categories, now more than ever (black or white, vaccinated or unvaccinated, Trump Supporter or not), and point our fingers at each-other?  Why does it seem like our sense of community has devolved into only allowing me to be in your circle only if I completely agree with you on every topic?

Whether it’s California, where politicians think they are Hollywood super-star elites – or your most rural areas in the country – Washington DC, state governments and their media mouth pieces (Fox on the Right, CNN/MSNBC on the Left) are trying their best to lump you into a category/group, and convince you, without ever meeting someone, to dislike them based on their political part affiliation, or in some cases, the color of their skin.  There is an effort to take away the individuality in us all, and prescribe prejudgments to strangers – and I for one, who bought into it initially, refuse to fall into this behavior trap anymore.

Did I vote for Trump?  No, I did not.  But, I have friends that did – and I love them all the same, as they simply have a different perspective, but are the same person I always loved.  Would I vote for Biden again?  No, I would not.  His recent speech, where he attempts to mandate our way out of a pandemic, while singling out a particular group, truly defines my point in this post.  The Democrat’s and Republican’s have become so hungry for power and control – they will use divisive propaganda to force others to do something against their will, in the name of “democracy.”

Well, that sounds more like a dictatorship to me – and I encourage every American who cares to register as a non-partisan/Independent, so we can take the power away from the two-party system, and expand the potential of recruiting elected officials that will actually put country above party.  This, and only this – a shift from the two-party system, will start the process of creating a more reasonably governed society, with more accountability.  A place where our children don’t have to live in blankets of anger and division sown by those who should be protecting them, and providing guidance.

Hey Kiddo,

I want to take this opportunity to simply express how proud I am of you.  You’re a few months into 5^th grade, and you’re working your little buns off in math and reading.  At the end of 4^th grade, you came home with a lower than anticipated reading-score, and I was a bit frustrated – and that frustration only existed because I know you can do better.  As a parent, at least for me, I will never be upset with you for any reason just as long as 1) your decisions are decent and reasonable AND; 2) you try your very best.  I knew you could do better – so I couldn’t let that subpar test slide.  It is my job as your Dad to encourage you to reach your potential – even if that means I must make tough decisions that you may not like.

So, the agreement going into 5^th grade was “you have to improve your reading score during the first quarter of school if you want to have the freedoms you so desire.  Video games, basketball, etc.”  And I’ll be damned kid – that first reading test was impressive – and I can see how hard you’re trying, and the added effort you’re putting into school.  It makes me feel proud as your Father, and I can tell that your confidence in school is rising. 

Sometimes I stare at you.  I know that may sound creepy – but it’s true.  When you’re doing your homework, hanging out with Peanut (our dog), playing on your computer, eating dinner or reading – I just take a moment and appreciate the young lady you’ve become.  Sure, I miss the days when you weren’t as independent and needed me more – you were such a cute baby/toddler – but I’m in awe by how much you’ve grown, and how mature you are for ten-years old.  You never complain, you’re filled with kindness and you’re fucking hilarious.  We are similar in so many ways – but seemingly, you have taken my good qualities, and except for, at times, being politically incorrect, you’ve refrained from adopting my more challenging qualities. 

You know I can be impatient at times, and I get flustered by the constant nonsense humans create each day – but you’re much more easy-going.  I appreciate that about you.  And, since you’ve been on this planet, and particularly with your mom and step-dad, I often, but not always, think before I speak.  The last thing I want to do is make co-existing with your mom and step-dad more difficult than it should be – for all of us, especially you.  But girllllllllll – I sometimes must bite my tongue – but I’d do anything for you J – even work a government job.

Each new generation should be better than the previous – and that is my goal for you, sweetheart.  I am helping you become a better person than I could ever be – and in the process, you’re helping me improve.  It’s so hard only seeing you half of the time – I often cry tears of joy when I think of you – and I look forward to nothing more than picking you up for our week together.  I am so blessed that you’re my baby-girl, and words can’t describe just how proud of you I am.  Keep being awesome.

Love,

Dad

I felt terrified, accompanied by a panic I’ve never experienced.  I was frantically searching – screaming your name, and calling out for you.  I felt like a failure – as my only meaningful purpose on this earth is to protect and love you – to ensure you have every opportunity to succeed.  I felt empty inside – sobbing uncontrollably – as I know I can’t exist, if you don’t.  You are such a massive piece of my heart, and without you, I am not me.  I am something else – an empty vessel of sorts…aimless, lost and angry. 

Where are you?  What happened?  Who fucked up?  If anyone touches a hair on your head, their head will roll.

A dream.  No, a nightmare.  The worst kind.  I can handle monsters, and demons during Rapid Eye Movement.  I can fight off sharks – and run away from Frankenstein’s – but I can’t withstand the thought of losing you – that is my greatest fear.  My biggest worry.

Lila,

I had a nightmare over the weekend that you were lost – and somehow, during the horrifying experience, I feared that you were taken.  It’s hard to describe the emptiness I felt inside – and when I woke up, I sent you a message to ensure that you were safe.  I kept falling back asleep, and reengaging in the nightmare, hoping that I would find you – and at some point, I did.  The nightmare still haunts me days after – and I can’t wait to pick you up from school today.  I want to give you a big Dad hug.

Since you were born, my greatest fear has been that something would happen to you – whether it be an injury, an illness, or god forbid, an abduction.  I used to rush you to the emergency room when you ran a fever – and checked on you each night (and surprisingly still do) to make sure you were still breathing.  I suppose it’s part of my OCD – but the thought of your safety and well-being has been an obsession of mine for 10.5 years.  I suppose that this obsession, at times, manifests into nightmares. 

As you get older, I am trying to find a balance.  I used to ask you to call me on your way to after-school program – so that I know you got there safely – and up until third-grade, I would call the school to confirm that you arrived.  The teachers would get a bit annoyed – but hearing them say “yes, Lila is here” put my mind and heart at ease.  I think that my fear also stems, in part, from you being with me half-time – I worry about you when you’re with your mom and step-dad, but I try to believe they take care of you just as well as I do. 

Now, as you are on the brink of middle-school – I must trust that I’ve taught you well, and that you know how to protect yourself – including not putting yourself in potentially dangerous situations.   We talk about never engaging with a stranger – and if someone makes you uncomfortable, you run or fight.  We talk about how women must be more aware of their surroundings – as there are some creepy, dangerous men walking around.  I don’t tell you these things to scare you – I speak with you about these things to prepare you.

At 2:40pm, I still want to make that call to your school – but I must let go slowly, and trust you.  I know that you walk from class to the after-school program with your friends.  I know that you’re smart enough not to place yourself in a dangerous situation – and I have faith that you will inform me if someone makes you feel scared, awkward or uncomfortable.  I know that you trust me to protect you – and nothing makes me feel as good as hearing you say “I trust you, Dad.”  Or, my favorite, “I love you, Dad.” 

I’m proud of you, kid.  Always and forever.  So far, you have been kicking-ass in 5^th grade – and as you are challenged more academically and socially – I am also ready to take on the challenge of being a parent to young-lady going on the brink of adolescence. 

8-20-2019

Dear Lila,

The fall season in Pennsylvania is my fondest childhood memory.  I remember how the season feels – everything about it.  It was a seemingly short transition from summer to fall – just a month or so after starting school, the air would turn cold, and the winds began to gust.  The green leaves on each tree would catch fire.  Well, not literally, but I vividly remember the leaves turning a bright orange and red – and the aforementioned wind-gusts would assist the trees in shedding for the winter months ahead.

The leaves would blanket the yards throughout the neighborhood – and I, and the other neighborhood kids would grab rakes from our garages, and pull the colorful leaves into big piles – jumping in and out of them throughout the day.  As I write this letter, I can smell the sweetness of the leaves – and hear my friends kicking through the piles, and laughing.  I would lay on my back in the yard, with my arms and legs sprawled out – and just look up at the sky as the wind howled and the last few leaves danced on the trees.

The fall air is chilled – and refreshing to breathe.  My mother would transition the summer clothes deep into the dresser, and the long sleeves, jeans, knit-hats and gloves would come to the forefront.  At the bus stop, all our cheeks got a bit redder – and we could see our breath each time we exhaled.  The neighborhood kids would start discussing what they would be wearing for Halloween.  I remember, one year, my father made me a Ghostbusters costume – and it was amazing. 

At school, the teachers had various fall activities – from our school Halloween parade and decorating pumpkins – to learning about the Pilgrims and Native American’s as the days moved closer to Thanksgiving. 

I associate certain films and stories with fall – like the always terrifying movie, Halloween and the cartoon version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow.  Or, Charlie Brown and the Peanuts, when each year, they would have the Thanksgiving show.

It’s hard for me to describe fall in a letter – or do it the justice it deserves – but this morning as I walked our dog, the cool air brought home.  For some reason, I feel so strongly about the fall season back in Pennsylvania, and one of these years, I’m going to take you home to have the experience.  Then, you will know exactly what I mean.

We are blessed to live in California, where the sun shines over 300-days per year.  But some days, I wish I could wake up, 10-years old again, like you, and experience just one more week of the fall season, as a child, back home in Pennsylvania.  My sisters laughing and smiling – my parents younger and healthier – and the neighborhood kids zipping up and down the block on their bikes and skateboards.  I suppose my fondness doesn’t derive all from the season itself, but the fact that I associate some of my favorite childhood memories with that time of year.

My hope is that you’re also imprinting the same feelings, and memories into your mind – and one day, you will write a similar story to your child (or me J).  I pray that your life continues to be filled with beautiful moments and memories.

I love you always and forever,

Dad

8-6-2019

Dear Lila,

I’m missing you quite a bit today – well, of course I always miss you, but today even more.  The way the visitation schedule is set-up with your mom – you’re with me one week, then the next with your mother.  After about 3-days or so – I start to think about how excited I am to see you next.  How, I can’t wait to give you a big-hug, and laugh with you – act like complete goofballs.  Now that you’re 10, and on the brink of middle-school – I can tell that you value your independence.  You love playing video games, and watching funny videos on YouTube. I will always respect your yearning for independence – but I will also keep my expectations high.  My philosophy has always been – that you get your freedom, as long as you’re a reasonable person and do your part at home, and in school.  You consistently exceed my expectations, and I am very grateful.

Over the years, since your birth, I have felt emotions so powerful they are hard to describe and manage.  When you were a baby – I used to hold you, and for whatever reason, probably because I love you so much, I would spontaneously start crying.  Well, more like sob.  Tears would begin running down my cheeks – and it would be difficult for me to compose myself.   I remember, when I would be rocking you to sleep – I would put on music, and the lullabies triggered deep emotion that I had no idea existed.

Aside from the crying – I also started experiencing what would later be classified as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), with a side of Generalized Anxiety (which I think magnified my active alcoholism – as drinking seemed to calm my nerves at the time). I believe these conditions were pre-existing, and not your fault in anyway, kid – as I see my father struggle with the aforementioned conditions.

The moment you were born, I felt something, not just emotion, but an overwhelming sense of responsibility – and that sense of responsibility made me afraid for your safety and well-being.  What do I mean by that?  I mean that I was always terrified, literally scared, that something may happen to you.  I obsessed about it to the point that my heart would palpitate, and I would spiral into a complete panic.  On top of that, I was doing my best to keep a straight-face, and was cramming these intense issues into a distant corridor within my mind.  It began to manifest.

It was a challenge for me to enjoy the good times – because I was always thinking about worst case scenarios.  It began to expand – and I became obsessive about my health and well-being.  Every headache was a tumor – and every anxiety induced palpitation was a looming heart attack.  I couldn’t fathom the thought of me dying before you could generate memories of me – it was my greatest fear.  Those of us that suffer, literally suffer, from OCD know that we are irrational – the way we think, at times, and our damn routines – but they are near impossible, the urges, to ignore.  You’ll certainly remember, because I still do it now – that I sometimes must go back into the apartment, several times, and even when we didn’t cook, to make sure the stove is off, for fear of burning our place down.  The sinks are off, so that our unit doesn’t flood – and the 4-times I walk around the car when we get home, ensuring the interior and headlights are off – and the doors are locked.  I do this at work too – because I worry that if my car battery dies, you’ll be stuck at school – and I won’t be able to see you.  As I write this, I feel a certain level of despair.

Soon, drinking didn’t calm me at all – it made things worse.  Then, when I stopped with the booze – I began the learning process.  Meaning, I could no longer hide from my mental health challenges – I had to learn how to cope with them, substance free.  Was that scary?  You’re damn right!  But I was finally ready – I, as they say, was sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I have openly talked to you about my alcoholism, anxiety and OCD (your grandpa struggles with it too) – and after a year of sobriety, I started therapy (sporadic).  I was open to trying any method to get better – to not suffer.  I started exercising and eating healthier – and those efforts weren’t fruitless.  I’m not cured – but I’ve been training my mind to respond differently to certain thoughts and situations.  I realized that my OCD isn’t all bad – as it makes me very effective at work – but it’s no damn good at home, with the family. 

My point in this letter is to let you know that it’s ok to not be ok sometimes.  It’s ok to talk about the challenging times, just as much as the joyous times.  I want you to know that no matter what you’re feeling, or what you’re thinking – you can feel the freedom of knowing that I will never judge you, regardless of what is running through your mind.  You have a strong network in your life – and I need to know that you know, I have your back always and forever.  Just like you’ve had mine – more than you’ll ever know.  Like addressing my alcoholism – I must address my challenges with mental health, as they will never go away, but they will certainly become more manageable. Never try to mask feelings with substances – I can assure you, it will only get worse.  Have the courage that I didn’t have – and confront these challenges head-on – and know that you’re stronger than any temporary thought, or impulse.  It will all be ok – always.

As you get older, we will talk more – or if for some reason, I am gone – just know, that your mother and stepfather (Nick) are there for you too.  My hope is that you will find more artistic outlets to express your feelings – and continue playing sports to ensure you have a network of support.  You are loved deeply by many – and your health is our priority.  You are my best friend.

Oddly enough, as I finish this letter – I am crying J

Tears of joy.

I love you sweetheart – always and foreve.

Love,

Dad

July 31, 2019

Dear Lila,

I watched a documentary last night – and while I watched, intense emotions surged through my body.  At one point, I gasped as I tried to hold back tears – but then I reminded myself that it’s ok to feel and express emotions…in fact, it’s a great thing.  I remember a time when I was numb to everything – everything, that is, except you.  So, in a sense, more so than ever, crying is a reminder that I’m human and capable of expressing the feelings that were once locked away and buried beneath substances.

The documentary was on ESPN (you know I love sports!) – and it focused on Chris Herren, a once famous basketball star, who played for the Boston Celtic’s (Go 76er’s!) – but his career and personal life spiraled out of control due to a heroin addiction.  In many ways, it made me think of your Aunt, Michelle, who has been lost for years due to her addiction to heroin, pills and whatever else she can get her hands on.  Now, 39, she has been stuck in a cycle of addiction, poor decisions and destructive relationships since she was 13-years old.  

I have so much anger inside – as Michelle’s addiction is something that has impacted your grandma and grandpa tremendously, as they’ve tried everything to support Michelle in overcoming her challenges.  Me?  I’ve come to terms with the fact that if Michelle doesn’t get better very soon – it’s inevitable that we will get the call, sometime within the next five years, that she is dead. Our family has struggled with addiction through the generations – both of your great Grandpa’s were alcoholics, and my Aunt and Uncle on my Father’s side died of heroin overdoses in their 30’s.  Your Grandma is an alcoholic, which rips at my heart each and every-day – as she doesn’t see that the pain that my sister causes her, is the same burden she is placing on me. 

Lila, I am an alcoholic – and over five-years ago, when you were just five-years old, I wasn’t in a good place, and knew that, if anything and for you, I needed to break this cycle.  Progressively, my active alcoholism got worse over the years – from binge-drinking and blacking-out in college to drinking a 12-pack and a bottle of wine daily.  Hiding bottles of Wild Turkey in the cupboards, just behind the olive oil, and chugging when no one was looking.  When I wasn’t drinking – the anxiety was immense, and by 10am, sitting at work, all that I could think about was how booze coursing through my veins was the only prescription. 

I thought booze was helping, but it in fact, it was making me sicker each day.  I gained 40-pounds, my blood pressure elevated and my face started breaking out in cysts and acne.  I couldn’t feel emotions anymore – I was like a robot – and that is what scared me the most.  Through it all, you were the only thing I lived for.  You kept me waking up, and provided a sanctuary from my inner demons – you were, and continue to be my angel and saving grace.

Since you are only with me half-time, I felt lost and sad the other half of the time – I didn’t know what to do with myself.  And with all our family back in Philadelphia, I felt alone.  I felt scared, and lost.  I can still remember how your little hand looked when you held my finger – your eyes looking up at me, and your precious smile. I can still feel how you would squeeze my finger – and for some reason, I viewed that as you telling me “it’s all going to be ok, Daddy.” Once the denial about my alcoholism wore off – I felt like I was failing you, and I knew I could do so much better.  I had to do better.  So, on April 21, 2014 – I quit drinking cold turkey.

In hindsight, I should have contacted my doctor to let them know about my issues with alcohol, and my desire to quit, as when I put the bottle down, my body initially responded adversely.  My blood pressure soared, and the withdrawal symptoms were terrible.  I didn’t know how to fill my time when you were gone, because I was so used to drinking every-day.  So, one night I walked over to an AA meeting because I knew I couldn’t do this alone – and thankfully you were too young to understand that your father is an addict.  The guys at AA saved my life – and each week, reminded me that my decision to quit drinking not only saved my life, but enhanced our family dynamic.  I am forever grateful to that AA group at Trinity Church in downtown San Jose.  I realized that alcoholism didn’t discriminate, as I sat next to gang-bangers fresh out of prison – and men in suits/ties coming from the boardroom.  It didn’t matter – we were all there for the same reason.  Sobriety.  Health.  Family.  Freedom.

It felt good not to feel alone in this journey – and as the months passed — my fat ass got less fat, I got a better job and the adult acne started to fade.  Most importantly, my mind was clear – and we had a new beginning, and together, since then, we haven’t looked back.  We started creating so many great memories – going to the beach, museums, events, festivals – we took every opportunity to have fun with each-other.  We got a new apartment (though we shared a room at that time because it’s SO expensive out here – but we loved it!), a new car – and I started volunteering at your school, and still do to this day.  I felt pride – and I knew you were proud of me – and that meant the world.

Chris reminded me that there is always hope – as his journey was filled with ups and downs.  He reminded me that recovery is a life-long process – and most importantly he reminded me of what’s most important.  You.  And, with that, he reminded me that your health and wellness is enhanced if I am a part of your life in a positive way.  If I am sober.

It’s important for you to know that we, as a family, have addictive tendencies – and I need you to know that too many people in our family have fallen victim to substance abuse.  It’s a real deceptive and destructive mother-fucker of a problem to have – and if we can break that cycle now – we will no longer be prisoners to a bottle or needle.  I pray that we can have ongoing and open discussions about this issue – and something that is so important to me – is that you feel comfortable telling me anything and everything because I will never judge you.  I have your back always and forever.

I pray that my sister finds herself – and I pray that my Mother puts down the bottle.  The Lord knows I’ve tried to get through to her – but you can’t make decisions for people…they must formulate their own conclusions and pathways in this life.

I pray for you always as you approach middle-school.  I got your back, kid.  Always and forever.

Love,

Dad