It's been couple years now since I've first realized how far the situation was. I probably knew before, somewhere deep down, but the moment when I truly, rationally accepted the fact that my dad can't control his drinking, will stay in my memory for good.
The society in which my family lives is one of those that very aggressively force alcohol into your live. The good host always offers wine and beer first, if you refuse both, they offer you something stronger, if you refuse that, they make sure you're not being shy for some reason before offering you no alcohol drink. When men of the village get together to renew ones roof or something, women form troops which take care that none of them get even close to being 'thirsty'.
When I was a little girl, I thought guys never even drink anything else but beer and wine. And I never thought my dad was ever drunk during the day. If we went out in the evening and dad drank a glass too much, mom was always driving back home. Even though secretly, I thought my dad was still a better driver even with some alco in his blood, than my mom when she's tired ... Anyway, my dad never drove when he drank that one glass or a bottle too much.
One day, when I was still a young driver, I had to pick him up after work, 10 pm. He wasn't waiting for me yet, so I moved to the passanger seat like I was used to ('if there is a man in a car, it should be him driving, because men are better drivers', another brilliant idea of my environment). When dad got out of the company, he looked a bit strangely at me, asked me why did I move, but still - sat onto the drivers seat and off we went. When he got to the exit from the parking lot, I knew he was drunk. Completely drunk.
Usually it takes us about 15 minutes to get home. I didn't look at the clock but it was definitely longer that time and those couple minutes were one of my worst ones. We were driving in the middle of the road, moving to the right just in time to avoid cars passing by. We nearly crashed too ... It was late and there weren't many other cars, we were lucky. But we couldn't completely avoid one of the oncoming cars and broke the side mirror. Dad stopped the car, I unleashed my seat belt, 'GET OUT OF THE CAR, I'M DRIVING HOME!!'
He shrugged his shoulders, 'What's done is done, I might as well drive all the way home.' We were only half way.
We got home safety, without any other accident, yet the world seemed to start collapsing. My dad, who never drinks and drives, just sat behind that wheel completely drunk, coming home from work with his daughter on the passanger seat!
The society in which my family lives is one of those that very aggressively force alcohol into your live. The good host always offers wine and beer first, if you refuse both, they offer you something stronger, if you refuse that, they make sure you're not being shy for some reason before offering you no alcohol drink. When men of the village get together to renew ones roof or something, women form troops which take care that none of them get even close to being 'thirsty'.
When I was a little girl, I thought guys never even drink anything else but beer and wine. And I never thought my dad was ever drunk during the day. If we went out in the evening and dad drank a glass too much, mom was always driving back home. Even though secretly, I thought my dad was still a better driver even with some alco in his blood, than my mom when she's tired ... Anyway, my dad never drove when he drank that one glass or a bottle too much.
One day, when I was still a young driver, I had to pick him up after work, 10 pm. He wasn't waiting for me yet, so I moved to the passanger seat like I was used to ('if there is a man in a car, it should be him driving, because men are better drivers', another brilliant idea of my environment). When dad got out of the company, he looked a bit strangely at me, asked me why did I move, but still - sat onto the drivers seat and off we went. When he got to the exit from the parking lot, I knew he was drunk. Completely drunk.
Usually it takes us about 15 minutes to get home. I didn't look at the clock but it was definitely longer that time and those couple minutes were one of my worst ones. We were driving in the middle of the road, moving to the right just in time to avoid cars passing by. We nearly crashed too ... It was late and there weren't many other cars, we were lucky. But we couldn't completely avoid one of the oncoming cars and broke the side mirror. Dad stopped the car, I unleashed my seat belt, 'GET OUT OF THE CAR, I'M DRIVING HOME!!'
He shrugged his shoulders, 'What's done is done, I might as well drive all the way home.' We were only half way.
We got home safety, without any other accident, yet the world seemed to start collapsing. My dad, who never drinks and drives, just sat behind that wheel completely drunk, coming home from work with his daughter on the passanger seat!
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