By Farrah Pen
Original Source: buzzfeed.com
My dad was a lot of different things — an entrepreneur, a program manager, a husband. He was a brother, a creator, and a friend. He was smart and kind and generous. And he struggled with alcohol addiction.
The last conversation I had with my father was on Christmas Eve. We’d decided to meet for coffee and I’d shown up right on time. Even though he was usually punctual, if not early, there was no sign of him.
In a way I was relieved. This meant I could order my cup of coffee without worrying about my dad using funds he might not have to pay for it. I was always grateful for the gesture, but more often felt guilty since I was never sure if he was working or between jobs or relying on his current wife for finances.
The shop was empty except for a couple perched at a high table near the pickup counter. I sat in an armchair facing the front door. It was five minutes past the time we’d agreed to meet. I wondered if he’d forgotten, even though he’d texted me an hour earlier that he was coming. Ten minutes went by. Fifteen. And there he was…click here to continue reading