The ugliest side to all this is loosing respect for your own father.
I was raised by my Godparents (Uncle & Aunt, my aunt is my father's sister), since my father was too young to take care of my brother and I, and my mother was gone when I was 5 years old and my little brother was 10 months old. (That's a whole entire story for another day)
My father was the youngest of 10 and he was the spoiled child of the family, so he had a drinking problem since I can remember things. The faithful day came regretfully, when I had to go and live with him in the city, I wanted a change, I wanted everything in life, just like any kid.
My father drank way too much and many times he would let things get out of hand with driving and pretty much being a parent period, when I was 12 we had a really bad accident that left me with several stiches and a deep hatred for 18 wheeler trucks. We were lucky to come out of that one alive.
Many times he would come drunk home, and my me and my friends pretty much scrambble out of there like bats out of hell, they all knew my situation too well, and understood that it wasn't wise to stick around when he got home.
He's a very broken man, and in some ways I think he broke me down too, with his sadness, his weakness, and his repetitive bad luck (although I don't believe in luckat all). I'm so sad that he was that way, I wish I could be proud of him, but I've never found any reason to be so.
In the other hand my Godfather which thankfully raised me as one of his own was an exemplary role model, I gotta tell you, better man this world has never known, he taught me some very important values, and although I may not practice them, I'm very well aware of wrong from right, and at the end that's what really matters.
Unfortunately my Godfather got really sick when I was 15, so I went back to them to see if I could provide some sort of help, although I really couldn't, but nonetheless I want it to be near them in this time of need. He died of cancer a year after and to this day and until the day I die he will always be my greatest hero, I was lucky that way, I got to see the 2 sides of the coin.
Now my father was bitter about me leaving him like that, but I didn't care, I turned into what they call an "enabler" whixh means that person that allowes ther tormentors to keep preying on, until one day 3 years later I left for good, and now I've been here in the US since then.
Thanks to his drinking he lost it all, all his cars, money, women, they were all gone, and I started sending money from here until eventually I brought him here, and got him a place in Miami, he never learned, and he sill drinks. It took me another good 10 years since I left my country to tell him what a fuck up I though he was, it hurt me worst than it did him, I know, because I'm still hurting.
I haven't talk to him ever since...
This is what I have to live with everyday for the rest of my life friend, I hate my father, nothing new in todays world, I just wish it didn't feel this bad that's all.
Hopefully there's something you can do to avoid this horrible feeling, be strong, this is probably the time your father will need you the most, he just won't admit it.
Just to make things clear, a lot of the times (Not in this post) when I talk about my "father" I mean my Godfather, so please understand for future or previous posts. I call them both Papa and their respective names when I talk to them though.
you should have a talk with him and if not get family involved.
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