There hasn’t been much of an opportunity. Although I’ve made it a point to be home after school all week, he hasn’t been around. We need to talk about what happened. I’ve even planned to offer to attend another meeting with him. On Wednesday night, my reality sets back in. He isn’t sober when he walks through the back door. “Hi, Dad,” I say cautiously.He stumbles a little before he catches himself on the counter. I notice the distinct smell of liquor and pot as he shuffles by me. Stopping at the sink, he stares out the back window for what seems like an eternity.“I’m going to bed,” I tell him. He doesn’t even acknowledge me. Without another word, I gather my things and head to my room.***About ten minutes later, I hear the back door open and close before a car starts. While my dad’s gone, I check in with his sponsor, Peter. At one of our family meetings, he gave me his card and said I could call anytime. This seems like a good time. “Well, I can tell you that he has been attending meetings all week,”
