The road to heaven is paved with good intentions.

My appearance seems to matter a whole lot today. It’s Sunday morning and the sun is blazing out through the clouds. Something about today takes me back seven years, to the day I was getting ready to fetch Amanda and three day old Simone from hospital. I had not seen Simone in over three months and today, we were going to bring her home.

There was an air of silence in the car as we drove to the Withers’ estate almost three hours away. Every time I glanced over at Amanda, she was smirking to no end and I could feel the excitement mounting within me too.

We finally pulled up to the long driveway and my hand started to quiver as I pressed the intercom. I was expecting to hear my father’s voice on the other side, but to my surprise I heard Simone’s instead. I ploughed up the driveway and I could hear the tiny stones shooting against the bottom of my car. Finally we pulled up to the front of the huge mansion. I have to give credit to my father for taking such good care of this home. It looks exactly the way it did eight years ago. The engine had barely quieted down when the oversized wooden front door creaked open and I heard Simone’s tiny little feet running towards the car.

To this day, nothing has felt better than holding my daughter in my arms and being able to tell her that “everything is going to be okay”, and actually meaning it. Simone’s bags were already packed and ready for us to take the road before we even entered the mansion, but Step 6 kept ringing in my mind and I knew that if I truly was to forgive my father, I would need to face him in the place where it all began.

As usual, my mother took everything to a new level and before I knew it, I was seated across from my father, staring him square in the face in the family dining hall. Within minutes, I was served with all my favourite foods: roast chicken and peas, mushroom-filled puffed pastries and apple crumble for dessert. Snacking and eating has replaced a large chunk of what used to be filled with alcohol. Joe says that this is very normal, so I am only too happy to indulge in all this delicious food.

As is his routine, my father, after a large meal, takes a walk into his vineyard to admire his crops. For the first time in my life, instead of judging him for being pretentious, I followed him. Simone and Amanda were back at the house looking at old photo albums with my mother, so I knew that my father and I would not be interrupted. I was determined to put on a brave face, but as I walked to the entrance of the vineyard, I could see his silhouette slouched against a crate and I could hear him sobbing.

I thought I had more self-control, but I was wrong. By the time mother called us in for coffee and cake, father and I had spent the better half of two hours sobbing and holding each other, without saying a word. It is clear that in moments like these, words are not necessary.

The next day it was time to put Step 10 into action: I needed to find someone that I could be a ‘BIG BROTHER’ to, and what better place to find someone than the local gambling hot-spot. All types of evil lived in this place; alcohol, drugs and gambling, so I knew I would definitely find someone. I walked in with a clear mission, but I walked out five hours later without anyone who needed me, my 10th step unaccomplished, and R10 000 richer. Talk about ‘beginners luck’!

‘Aaaaaahhhh’…it would seem that I had found a different kind of heaven. And the best part about this heaven was that it did not come with a scent, or a lob-sided walk, like being an alcoholic did.

The End

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