06-18-2001 | 2:46 a.m.

Dear Dad,
Did you ever imagine what I would be when I grew up? Not an insane addict, huh. Remember when we went to the pond and fed bread to the ducks? Remember the doll house you built for me one Christmas? And those camping trips every summer were so much fun. You were always the coolest dad in the neighborhood. Do you remember the time you were driving me home and we almost crashed into a tree? Oh yeah, you were really drunk so you might not remember. And I remember visiting you in the hospital when you had your head bashed in with a bat - that drug dealer was very mean. You got to stay at a bunch of resort type rehabs. I liked visiting you there. Everyone was so nice. Remember when you put a shot of vodka in front of me and told me to try it. I said, "No. I will never drink. Ever!" Or so I thought. I didn't like visiting you on the psych ward. Some weird guy kept yelling and ran up and down the hall the whole time I was there. Hey, how did you feel when you visited me in rehab at age 17? You thought it was your fault, you told me. A few years later you got to visit me in a mental hospital. That wasn't much fun was it? You told me not to take the meds the doc prescribed. That they would make my brain mush. I did listen to you, but then I wound up back on the psych ward. You didn't visit me that time.

You've changed your life Dad. You're sober and have a high paying job. And now I'm trying to pick up the pieces as well. Do I blame you? No. It's not your fault. I will always remember you as the man that could make me laugh when I felt sad. The man who helped me with my homework every night. But I do wish you had gotten help earlier. I hated to see you suffer. I love you Dad. I hope I can make you proud someday.