We all handle fear differently.

When we grow up in a family battling addiction, we cross our fingers (sometimes our toes) and hope for the best every day. We never knew what we going to get when my father came home, or when we came home. This is how Shadow Heart Opens.

I always prayed the same way at night: “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Please bless my mother, father, sister, everyone in the world, and me. And please make my father quit drinking.”

Th is is what I know as a child growing up in a family battling alcoholism:

Something bad is coming; it always does.

I can’t ask for help; I’m too ashamed.

I can’t talk about our secrets; no one understands.

I can’t trust anyone; they always leave.

This evening begins when I am eight and my sister is eleven.

We were only trying to have dinner before he unraveled. Now, I’m cowering as I pray under the dining room table that he won’t see my hiding place.

My small body shakes as I watch my sister face the wrath of our father’s anger.

www.PamelaTaeuffer.com

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