All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Always Hopeful MAG
Sixteen days. That was all that was left until I would see my father. He had gone into re-hab 10 days ago for alcohol and drug abuse. Hopefully this time it would work. But of course, I wished that every time. Although he had done a lot to my mother and me, I still loved him very much. I couldn't wait until he got back, that way my mother would start to look as if she was among the living again. I acted as her slave when she was like this. Only I didn't mind that much because I knew how she felt. I had acted that way the first few times that my father had gone into the re-hab center, too. It was a strange and eerie feeling, like you were living under water, just floating along, having no control over your actions. However, by now, I had gotten over that, with the realization that my father would always be an alcoholic. Even though there was always a little glimmer of hope that he would heal. Though Mom was a different story. She believed that this time was it and that he would come through this time, always this time. I felt bad for my mother, always so dependent and trusting of my father. She loved my father so much.
Suddenly I heard my mother's shrill voice singing out my name. She asked me to come downstairs for a minute. I thought she sounded particularly happy today. Why, I didn't know.
"What?" I asked, coming downstairs.
"Well..." she began slowly looking at me. I suspected something was up. "Your birthday is pretty soon and..."
"So?" I said cutting in. I didn't like birthdays at all, especially when I knew my dad was sitting in re-hab while I was partying. It just didn't feel right.
"So... I thought you'd like to have some friends over or something." I was surprised how enthused she sounded. I wondered why. To make her happy I said that it would be all right.
"Oh, great!" she exclaimed. "We can pick up some things tomorrow, after school." She began jotting ideas on a piece of paper.
"Now, let's see...cups, plates, hmmm..." I could see her mind wondering off, forgetting I was there.
"It will be wonderful, won't it!" she suddenly said, hope flooding her eyes.
"Yes, Mom, I think it will," I said, wondering if she just meant my party. "Yes, it will be great," I said again trying to convince myself that maybe this time it would be wonderful. Whatever it was. n
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 3 comments.
You are an excellent writer! The only problem I have is that you leave me hanging there. Why did the mom plan the birthday party? Will the dad come back ready to be sober?
0 articles 0 photos 12292 comments