“Daddy needs a beer”!
When I said those words my 7 and 5 year old girls would jump out of my lap, race to the refrigerator, and get me a beer.
It was fun. I couldn’t wait to finish that beer, so I could see who won the next race.
This was a typical Saturday afternoon…
…and the fun had just started.
My little girls meant everything to me. They were always in my lap.
In fact, I practically raised them in my recliner.
We were always together.
I was their hero.
They were always either on my lap, or right beside me.
They couldn’t get close enough.
I call them both butt… because they might as well have each been one of my butt cheeks.
They were never away from me.
They loved me, and I loved them.
They were everything to me. The only bright spot in a dark world.
Throughout a typical Saturday we would play games, watch cartoons, they would dance for me, they would put on a show…
It was the very best of times…
I never wanted it to end.
“Daddy needs a beer”!
And they would race to the refrigerator, about to kill each other to try to please their daddy.
They always pleased their daddy.
Until that certain point.
As they continued being the beautiful, loving, happy girls they were…
I became a monster.
“Daddy needs a beer”…
And they would hesitate to fetch another beer…
They’d seen it too many times.
Suddenly, the same things that made daddy laugh, the same things made daddy fill up with joy…
Made daddy frustrated… angry…
Violent.
Yelling, screaming, rage.
Throwing things at his angels.
They hated THAT daddy.
I hated that daddy.
The next morning I would apologize, and the fun would begin again.
And since they had happy daddy back, there was laughter, games, and love…
Until later that night.
Then the monster was back.
As they grew older, after the first beer, they would hide in their rooms.
I knew why… but I just dismissed it as them growing up.
They were growing tired.
Their trust had worn.
They had seen it too many times, and were making changes to avoid the hurt and pain.
The pain that I caused them.
My beautiful girls.
I still hurt thinking about the pain I caused them.
If I had one wish, I would do it all again.
“Daddy needs a hug”!
And I would cherish every race…
And I would cause them no pain.
I love my butt cheeks.
Please forgive me for ever causing you pain.
You were my greatest teachers.
You endured what should have never been endured.
And I now cherish every sober day with you.
You are my heroes.
And I appreciate every teenage giggle, laugh… and hug.
—
This post was previously published on mikekitko.com and is republished on Medium.
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