Letters From The Child Of An Addict

The Christmas I have been planning in my head for years.

The Christmas I have been planning in my head for years.

The one where my mother, father, husband, and daughter are all together on Christmas morning. In my head we all wake up and eat a beautiful breakfast and watch my daughter open her presents. We relax on the couch all day and enjoy the beautiful Colorado winter. The reality behind this is I haven’t spent a Christmas with my father in 23 years.

I have hoped and prayed for this to one day be a reality, and this year it might be.

When I was a child my parents took my little sister and I to Colorado. We visited several towns on our way to Rifle. We toured the Coors Brewery and saw the hot springs near Glenwood. These are the most wonderful memories of my childhood. Of all, one stands out the most. The gold mine we visited on the way.

On our trip, we stopped in some tiny town. I don’t remember most of the little town. I can tell you the way the old gold mine looked though. The big Red Mill on the side of the mountain. The creek that runs in front of it. The mine opening and the smell.

I remember my mom and dad being happy, us kids in awe of the beautiful place we were in. You could pan the river for gold. I can remember my father helping me pan. Our feet in the cold water, pants rolled above our ankles. The beautiful rainbow rocks, crystal clear river. Looking up at how big the mill looked from down in the creek.

It smelled fresh; the sky was blue as could be. The sun was just over the mountain and the creek was in the shade. We panned for a little while before heading up to the opening of the mine. The smell of it was so distinct. It smelled wet. Like wet dirt and a tinge of mold. It was dark and I can’t remember why, but we didn’t go in. Thank God because it would have probably ruined my memory of the place.

For years I had this vivid memory in the back of my head. Wondering if my father would ever be able to pan the river with my children. Until this year, the dream seemed so unobtainable to me. My father’s struggle with addiction was too much for so long.

These past couple years, my father and I have been rebuilding our relationship. Knowing him now as the man I remembered, brought back all the hopes, and wishes I had.

So, after googling all these images I had in my head. Explaining my memories over and over, to my husband, while I searched. Hoping it would jog something more. Asking my mother, a hundred questions about what she remembered about the trip. Even though what she mostly remembered, was having her head buried in a barf bag the whole way. I found it.

Argo Gold Mine and Mill. Idaho Springs, Colorado.

When I clicked images on Google, I lost my shit. Ugly cried. I had been looking for weeks.

There it was, the big Red Mill. The beautiful creek below. Exactly as I remembered it.

I contemplated for weeks on planning a vacation. Inviting my father. Talking to my husband about it. Wondering if my husband would even go for it. Although, he loves me and would do anything to make me happy. I wondered if he would be okay making plans, and watching me fret to the very last second. Wondering if my father was coming. I set my expectations low. I wasn’t even sure if my father would want to go on vacation with my family.

I looked for weeks, at Air BNBs, hotels, and cabins. When I found a place, I asked my husband for his opinion. To my surprise, he was one hundred percent on board. With one condition, I understood the gravity of what I was doing. Asking my father to drive 500 miles with us, stay almost a week, and be comfortable with it.

I made a promise to myself before I asked my dad. I made the promise to accept it if he said no. To accept the possibility that he may not be ready, to take on this commitment quiet yet.

While visiting with my dad during his birthday, I asked if he would like to visit Colorado with us. Without hesitation he said yes. I was relieved. Because even though I knew better than to set an expectation, I did.

Never in a million years did I think in a few weeks, I would be in the same place with my dad. In Idaho Springs. Now with my daughter, 22 years later.

I will not sit here and lie, tell you that I am not anxious. I will be until he is in the car with us heading to Colorado. The fear of him deciding he isn’t ready, is a little too much when I think about it. I won’t let the fear and anxiety stop me from, potentially making, some of the best memories in my life.

If you have made it this far, please say a prayer or send good vibes. That this time in a few weeks I will be with my mother, father, husband, and daughter. Panning that river for tiny specs of gold that the miners missed. Making memories that will last a lifetime. That one day I will get to look back, and be happy that I asked him to come along.

With love, Ash