This image was taken while I was on a 36 mile backpacking trip through the south island of New Zealand. At one point (after climbing for about eight hours by myself) I turned around and looked back at the path I had just climbed. I remember thinking about how, at certain points it hurt so much.... but looking back it was totally worth every step. Then for a moment, I didn't know if I was thinking about the path....
....or my life.
One of my very first memories that I can ever remember is of my dad. I was four years old. He was sitting on our maroon colored couch, his back faced the 80's style crackled mirrored wall that went straight up to the ceiling in our living room. The three bulbed lamp dimly lit the room while the sound of The Beatles danced through the faux wood box speakers. My dad hunched over his 'seed slide' brought a joint up to his lips, sucked in chronic and exhaled, his mouth shaped like an 'O'.... puff, cough.... exhale, breathe. My brother and I stood before dad anticipating the perfectly formed circle of smoke that would float from his lips.... like magic. We would use our index finger and poke it through the middle of the circle that would quickly grow bigger and bigger until all the smoke had dissipated into hazy air. We would jump up and down, 'Do it again dad, again!'
My dad was a drug addict for almost thirty years. It consumed him and shaped our family during my (and my brothers) entire childhood. Growing up we shared laughter.....but mostly anger. We walked on eggshells never knowing if dad was high on the roller coaster or crashing down..... on us. Emotionally. One day, dad had a moment of clarity and made the choice to stop his addiction. He has told me many times, 'once an addict, always an addict.' So, everyday he makes a choice not to go back.
The moment he quit is when, I believe, my dad really started living.
He left himself vulnerable to his 'true friends'.... his family, himself. He had to be openly honest about EVERYTHING and the deep tracks he carved into his family. For many years I used to wish my childhood was something else....something without circles of smoke. I think about how symbolic that simple puff of smoke shaped my life and how my dad chose to break the circle. The patterned cycle of life. To me he is proof that people can change. They have to want it though. The amount of love and pride I have for him is something that cannot be measured.
We all have a story. I wouldn't change mine for anything. Today, I honor my dad and his choice to be drug free. This year marks an entire decade!
My favorite dad......my hero.
Forever changed.
Thank you for making a choice: every. single. day.
Love, your favorite daughter
