MY 2 CENTS By Randy Rowles


BE THERE FOR OTHERS


For many of us, the daily grind of life presents a real struggle. Not because it’s hot outside or the work we do is exhausting. It’s because of battles being fought within us, outside of the public eye. For some, these battles started many years ago and continue to influence day-to-day behaviors and thoughts. People are affected by events and life experiences, and react to them in different ways. I believe that you can truly understand someone only when you know and understand their past.


My own life experience is full of events that shaped me into the person that I am today. My perspective on the world and how I choose to engage all facets of my life reflect many years of events, people, and situations that make up who I am as a person.


In our early years, home life sets the tone for personal development, but having both parents at home doesn’t automatically mean a stable environment.


My parental team had an evangelical pastor and die-hard alcoholic. The dynamics of this relationship made for constantly changing schools, friends, and often homes. Like clockwork, my father would start drinking around Thanksgiving; my parents would separate, and then usually get back together just after Easter. This cycle often repeated itself, so I coined my father a “holiday drinker.”


Drinking was his way out of the stresses of life. Alcohol was his demon and like his father before him and his father before him, it was a coping mechanism no matter the cost to himself and others. With the drinking came the violence. Without alcohol, my father was a kind man who would drop anything to help


10 May/June 2023


someone when needed. With alcohol, vodka being his spirit of choice, my father changed into an unrecognizable monster.


We had a large family of seven children, with two of my sisters already moved out of our home by the time I came along. I was the youngest of the group. In my early years, I remember watching each of my siblings leave home, usually after one of my father’s tirades. With each departure, I found myself more alone in an environment I could not change or influence. I was stuck!


One Christmas Eve, I awoke early to the sounds of yelling and shouting coming from the living room. I went to investigate the noise and found my dad physically abusing my mom on the couch. I engaged my dad to the extent a 7-year-old could, and found myself in the direct wrath of his rage. One of the gifts around the Christmas tree was a brand-new bicycle with a Miami Dolphins logo. My dad grabbed me and while holding my neck, he pointed at the bicycle while explaining that he bought that bicycle and there was no such thing as Santa Claus. This cycle of behavior lasted for more than a decade of my life.


That story is my reality. It is located somewhere in my rearview mirror of life. It does not define me nor give me reason to feel sorry for myself. The actions of my father provide a very clear path for me to be a better man. I will not be an alcoholic. I will not be an abuser of my wife, children, or anyone else for that matter.


The experience I described is not unique to me. All of us have experienced trauma that gets etched in our brain; within these traumatic events, mental health issues may arise.


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