Gratitude in Action

My dad was the alcoholic in my family; I lived with him from the time my mom died when I was four until I was seven. Me, I drank to celebrate life. That's what I told the court-ordered psychiatrist and that's what I believed. By the time I was eighteen I had a lot of things to celebrate: I was no longer a ward of the court or on probation for drunk and disorderly. Best of all I was of legal drinking age.