BWJ
He sits at a kitchen table surrounded by
his two life-long best friends, his sister, and
the counselor, holding the letters from his
little girls begging for their daddy back.
A shell of a man with tears flowing from
his already-glazed eyes is trying to cope with
this reality: the bottle or life.
All the scotch and water in the world won’t
take away the pain he knows he’s caused or
shut out the past that turned him to the bottle.
He opens his eyes looking back into those of the
ones who love him the most. He sees the years of
hurt and desperation for sobriety. He knows
a life that is poured from a bottle isn’t what should be.
He used to be in control, he used to hide it all, but there’s
no hiding anymore. He looks up asking God for
Hope and says,
“I’ll go.”
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