Mine is a tale of two fathers, same man. Until I was 13, I have hundreds of wonderful memories of my father. He played sports with me, we went fishing together and hiking, and I loved watching his favorite TV shows with him, he had such a contagious laugh. Then my mother died when I was 13, and he couldn't handle it. He hid in the bottle, and we lost him to his alcohol. The rest of time at home, until I left at 19, was chaotic. He did finally get sober when he was about 55, and I have several fond memories of him after that. I loved him deeply.