I remember the day before my first day of school.  I was 5 years old and it felt like the day before Christmas; In fact, it was just like Christmas.  My mom had taken me shopping that day to buy me new clothes, school supplies and a brand new blue back pack.  Mom was always making sure I looked my best and there was something about taking me shopping that always made her so happy.

That night I remember laying in my bed tossing and turning, not being able to sleep because I was so excited.  The first day of school, where I would meet lots of friends, play tons of games and learn all kinds of news things was just a few hours away.  I don’t even think I slept an hour before mom was walking into my room and telling me it was time to get up and come downstairs for breakfast.  She had made me oatmeal or maybe it was cream of wheat, whatever it was she had written “I Love You” with a smiley face on top of the hot cereal with strawberry syrup.  I looked up to see that mom had tears running down her face.  “Why are you crying mama,” I asked. “Because I love you,” she replied.

Mom did love me more than anything but that wasn’t the only reason she was crying.  She was crying because she was afraid of being alone.  She was a stay at home mom and I was finally going to school, leaving her home alone.  Mom was afraid to be alone and afraid she would mess up.  All those years of partying and drinking away the abuse from her childhood had finally caught up to her.  My mom was an alcoholic with little to no self control over the bottle.  With my absence she knew she would be haunted daily with thoughts of just having a few drinks which always turned out to be a nightmare if she gave in.

For the next 13 years of grade school my mom would stay home and have this daily battle with herself and alcohol. It nearly killed her several times and what I would experience in those years of growing up and watching the one I love most self destruct would change everything about me, turning my heart cold and filling it with anger.