With Father’s Day around the corner I can’t help but think of the journey my dad has taken in this life. My dad’s name is Rafael Vasquez. He is not a tall man with a natural dark complexion that has been enhanced by the many years he has worked in the sun. It hasn’t been an easy 56 years for Ralph, as everyone affectionately calls him. In particular the past 4 years, six months and 12 days have been really difficult for my dad. On January 1, 2010 Ralph, my dad, quit drinking. He put behind him a lifetime of addiction and substance abuse that made life at home unpredictable, difficult and weird at times. There was no explanation on his behalf; nor where there any promises that he would never do it again. He simply woke up emptied out the beers that were in his refrigerator.
The sudden change made us hopeful but scared because there had been previous attempts at sobriety. When those efforts failed, the cycle started over. Growing up it was difficult to understand that you can’t force anyone to change, no matter how much they love you. I never doubted my dad’s affection for me, my siblings and for mom. I always knew he would be there for us: at soccer games, parent conferences, birthdays and all other big events. Dad wasn’t violent or abusive and he was always very attentive to what we were up to. Dad also had an amazing ability to make us laugh through random stories and off-the-wall jokes. Most importantly, he worked hard. Dad was a first-hand example of “work hard and party hard.”
Yet, we always wondered what it would be like to have a sober dad. I questioned whether his wit and ability to chat and be social was a byproduct of his addiction. I questioned why he didn’t just quit or why he would wake up hung over every morning to work under the sun, shoveling dirt for 8 to 10 hours a day.
To this day, none of us know why he stopped. When questioned, he simply responds that it was time. At family outings or gatherings with friends, people are still surprised that Ralph isn’t drinking. Even though my dad put down the beer cans, all his jokes continue to be funny and his advise makes as much sense today as it did before. Dad not only started a new phase in his life, but it opened a new chapter in ours. He will still show up to all school events, especially with my niece Kioana. He still brings mom flowers on random Fridays and enjoys watching soccer on the weekends. Dad continues to enjoy a good boxing match on a Saturday night and making us breakfast on Sunday mornings.
So this Fathers’ Day I will hug Ralph a little tighter and remind him that I am thankful that he’s walked away from a 40-year addiction to make his environment healthier. The idea of not doing something that I engage in on a daily basis, for the rest of my life, gives me the chills. I can’t imagine not every writing again; nor can I imagine not being able to enjoy a drive down the coast. So I can’t imagine what waking up has to be for my dad. The concept of one day at a time rolls of the tongue with ease but it can’t be that simple. For all of his flaws and mistakes from the past and in the present, what my dad has done for the last four years, six months and 12 days is impressive. Happy Father’s Day dad: I’m proud of you.
