My father was the kindest soul. He would do anything for anybody. But he could never seem to overcome his addiction. My entire life was a roller coaster of his sobriety and relapse. However, when we weren’t on that roller coaster he was all laughs, and all about his family. His laugh really was the best. Contagious really. He made a friend every single place he went. He never judged anyone, and wanted to help everyone.
My father would have given anything to not battle addiction. He tried, and tried again. When he told me he was clean, I knew he wanted to be, and we all prayed he would stay that way. But it never did last. Each time was harder. Still, I never gave up on him.
My father lost his battle four years ago. He came to terms that he no longer could take the battle he had to deal with every single day. He took his own life.
He was always loved. Always supported. He wanted it to be different.
Addiction affects young, old, all races, all ethnicities. It’s the hardest battle to fight. But we will continue the fight for him.