my careless contagion

The month of April means quite a few things to me.  On April 1, my ex and I found out she was pregnant. We didn't tell anyone that day six years ago because they would have thought it was an April Fools' joke. It was the beginning of big changes. It was also the month I decided (with God's blessing, though not His directive; I never felt He was telling me) I should upend our lives and start over in South Dakota after putting down roots in Ohio for the better part of two decades. My ex lived there for three decades. It was a big move for us, especially because she was pregnant. All that stress, did it impact my son in the womb? I don't know.  In April six years ago I stopped drinking. I don't know the exact date. I was an avid homebrewer. Though I was no stranger to liquor, my preference was always beer. Liquor tasted like burning. Beer tasted malty, roasty, hoppy, and next to perfect. Still, I felt I had to quit. Starting over in life isn't easy, and ...

The author with a full-blown case of the Blatz circa 1978. You can tell when you're talking to a real alcoholic because they'll identify themselves as one, even after going years without drinking. The mechanisms that make them an alcoholic were there before they started drinking, as well. I consider myself an alcoholic who doesn't drink. My father was an alcoholic. Well, he still is. But he stopped drinking many moons ago. It's been said that people use alcohol as an excuse to do and say what they want to do and say; it's okay because they were drunk or buzzed and didn't mean it. It's like kids saying mean things on the playground and then, "Just kidding," making it even worse because why are you crying when I was just kidding? It's a one-two punch. Well, my dad was a womanizer, too. Swore like I've heard no one else swear. In fact, I've never seen anyone get as angry as my father. I thought he was going to kill one of my ...