How Alcohol Broke My Heart

My oldest child was born while I was still a child myself and I named her, Stephanie LeAnne, after a Cabbage Patch doll. I was sixteen and her mother and I got married two weeks after she was born. I was a proud father, albeit a young one. I worked hard and managed to stay in school with passing grades. My life centered around that curly-haired, blue eyed angel God had placed in my arms. After school and long hours as a pastry cook in a hot kitchen, I still had the energy to hold her in my arms and rock her to sleep, whispering promises of a better future in to her tiny, pierced ears.



When I was eighteen, I graduated high school and joined the Marine Corps. My hopes of a better future for my daughter seemed in sight and I shipped out to boot camp two weeks before Stephanie's second birthday. I should have been gone only twelve weeks, but fate and a failure to disclose pertinent medical information kept me gone an additional four weeks. When I arrived home it was late in the evening and Stephanie had been long asleep. She woke up in the middle of the night and ran to my arms like I had only been out of the room for a few minutes. My heart melted. I was sure she would have forgotten me by the time I returned, but she had not.

Through a series of events I choose not to share here, I left for Marine Combat Training, two weeks after I returned, estranged from my wife. Unknown to me at the time, I would never live with my daughter again.

Suffering from depression and with a freedom not experienced in boot camp, I began to drink on a daily basis. I gave up calling my wife or talking to my daughter at all. I missed my daughter badly and I suppose out of spite for her mother I did not send any money home until her mother had to call my commanding officer and tell him of my devious acts.

I spent four years in the Marines and saw my daughter a few times on leave. I hated watching her grow up in pictures but it seemed to me to be my fate. I never stopped drinking. I forgot to send birthday cards or presents because of my drinking. At Christmas time I didn't call or write or send gifts like a father should. All I did was drink.

I spent a year and a half out of the Marine Corps sharing joint custody with Stephanie's mom. I was able to see Stephanie every other weekend and for an hour on Wednesdays. I hated the arrangement. I drank to deal with the pain and heartbreak. I drank because I was an alcoholic.

I moved to California when Stephanie was six. For a couple of years I was able to make the trip to pick her up so she could spend the summer with me. Then finances and my drinking problem got in the way of what little time we had. By the time the first summer came around that I was unable to make the trip, I had been a daily drinker for years, but that didn't stop me from trying to stuff my heartache deeper in to a bottle. This pattern of self abuse continued on for several years until I was able to fly her out in 2007 (thanks to the thoughtfulness of my current wife).



Stephanie had just turned fifteen when she arrived. It had been three years since she came out last. I met her at the airport, alone, and when she walked off the plane we hugged for an eternity. I felt the sense of relief I felt that first night I came home from boot camp. Time may come between us, but she didn't forget who I was. In spite of the joy I felt, reunited with my daughter, I drank all summer but we had fun and even made it to the beach. When the time came for her to leave, I again drove her to the airport alone. For some reason, as I watched her walk on to the plane, I knew I'd never see her as a little girl again. On the way home from the airport, I pulled off the road, and cried.



I was right. Stephanie isn't a little girl anymore. She has grown up into a beautiful woman with a life of her own choosing. This past summer while I was drunk, I upset her and her mom and for awhile neither would talk to me. It is hard knowing that she wouldn't talk to me because of something I did. I am very proud of her. She has a husband who is hard working and takes care of her.



They have a beautiful son together and another angel on the way. This summer will be five years since I have seen Stephanie, I am looking forward to seeing her again and the better future that she was able to make without me.