There are moments in life that divide everything into before and after. Walking through my dad’s funeral was one of those moments. Before the coming days I was asked to speak. I had to make up a speech about a bunch of great things about him. I had so much anger towards my father for what he had done. Now I had to write something amazing about him to be read at his funeral.

Some of my earliest memories of my dad aren’t about what he said or did for me, but what he couldn’t hide from me-his addiction. My dad heavily struggled with addiction, and it changed the way I saw him, my family, and even myself. My dad would leave my brother and me alone for hours on end…..