Growing up with a father that does drugs is never easy especially when he only calls you his beautiful baby girl and the best thing that ever happened to him because hes either drunk or high. My mother tried very hard to provide us with a very good life with little money to be working with. My father was my hero while I was growing, i thought that he was a super hero, he knew just what to do when I was sad, I remember once I was sitting on the wall that was outside our house and I began to cry, I knew why but i didn't want to tell anyone else, my mother saw me crying first and came up and asked what was wrong I looked her in the face and told her, "I know that you and papa are gonna fight tonight, I hate hearing the two of you fight it brakes my heart". My mother locked me in a tight embrace and whispered in my ear "I promise I will stop any fight that we start" my mom was very good at keeping promises to me and my brother. My father tried to begin a fight because my mother wouldn't give him money to go get beer, my mother stood there and in a very calm voice said "Mike I told you that I am not going to give you money to get beer you can either get over it or go throw a fit" my father didn't say another word to my mother he just walked away and went to work on a car, my mother walked into my bedroom hugged me and said that it was time to go to sleep. My father and mother split up when I was seven nearly eight years old. At first i was very angry at my mother but then as i got older i realized that my father isn't a father hes a dad but not a father. I love him still I will never hate him but I hope that he regrets what he did and I hope that his life is anything but perfect.