My dad, Abraham Garcia, was a great dad. I remember, as a child, he would always tuck me in and tell me he loved me before I went to sleep every night. If I fell asleep before he came home, he would make sure to kiss my forehead as I slept and whisper he loved me in my ear. My dad was the only person, while I was growing up, to tell me he loved me. And I always knew he meant it by the way he treated me. He protected me, he defended me, he listened to me and he was honest with me.

Saying that, my father was a drug addict my entire life. He was a functioning addict (which I respect.) He was a computer programmer for a huge television network. He made a good living and appeared to be happy. I found out, when I was 12 years old, that my dad was an addict but it didn’t matter to me. How he treated me, was all that mattered. As I got older I became more aware of his addiction and became resentful towards him for not staying sober. He went in and out of rehab clinics and drug programs but he always went back to his old ways. He would always say the same thing, “I was stressed out and I got high.” I thought, ” your kids aren’t a good enough of a reason to stay sober?” I would get so upset with him when he would relapse but I would never abandon him or deny him of anything. When I was angry at him, I would cut off all communication to him; wouldn’t answer his calls, texts, etc. But when we were on good terms, we would meet up, talk about life, be each other’s therapist and adviser. Sometimes I feel like I enabled him, to a point. I tried to be there for him, give him everything he needed so he could get better. But my attempts failed.

My dad passed away two years ago today and I miss him everyday. I feel bad about the times we were not on speaking terms. I think about the time I wasted being upset with him. I also know that the drugs almost definitely eliminated years off his life smh. He was a great dad despite the circumstances. He was The BEST Dad ever. May he Sleep In Peace.