Out of the Box

When I was drinking, I used to make Hamburger Helper A LOT, so much so that the kids (and others) were “sick” of it, but as I sobered up, I learned to cook, and the times I made Hamburger Helper were few and far between, and almost every time we’ve had it, it’s been at Nathan’s request but only of a certain kind.

For as long as I can remember, Nathan’s loved the cheeseburger macaroni one, so I, always, associate it with him. Well, tonight, Scott made it for dinner, and I ALMOST made it through without crying…almost.

Near the end, I broke down, and I’ll be fine if I NEVER eat the cheeseburger Hamburger Helper again. I miss him so much and doubt it will ever stop.

My Best Day

Throughout my years of recovery (from alcohol and from hell), I’ve remembered many things, some of them good and some of them not so good. When it comes to memories of my dad, there aren’t very many.

In the past, most memories I’ve had of him were attached with pain, but through learning how to reject the pain, I now only have memories, and most of them that I remember bring a smile to my face, like the one I had this morning. Continue reading