arranged to meet with a friend of my family, Dave, the Psychologist who knew my parents well and who’d filled me in on some details of my father’s family history. Driving to his office, I thought about my father. How much alike we were, and how much I missed him. When I sat down with Dave, I talked generally about some of the ways my life had changed, how I felt less depressed and stuck than I used to. I then asked what I’d come to find out: “Do you think my father was an alcoholic…
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