Loyalty, alcohol and accounting

When Albert Hood walked into the church, memories of my father's accounting firm flooded my mind.  I remembered going to Atlanta and spending hours playing on stacks of rugs while my mom selected one for each room in the old house that would be their new office. I remembered driving tax returns to the post office at 11:30 p.m. on several April 15ths to make the postmark deadline. I remembered the huge computer processor that was in their office...it took up the entire room! But, it was the first computer I had ever seen and I thought my daddy was the smartest man in the world because he knew how to work it.

I also remembered the end of tax season, 1987. My parents telling my brother and me that daddy was going to a rehabilitation center for alcoholism. My world came crashing down. I was 14. Seriously, all you want at age 14 is for your parents to be as normal as possible.  This didn't fit that bill. And wasn't alcoholism hereditary? Was I doomed?  What about my parents' marriage? Could it survive?  I remembered all of those feelings.

One thing I don't remember about those weeks, though, was worrying about my dad's job. When you own your own business, you eat what you kill. Daddy wasn't killing anything, but we still ate. Looking back on it now, and after talking with my mom, I realize that Mr. Albert kept the business afloat. He didn't bad-mouth my dad, or critique his life choices, or leave our family to fend for ourselves during that time. Why? Because he was loyal. My father was Mr. Albert's mentor in their profession. Daddy taught him how to be a successful CPA. So, when my father stumbled, Mr. Albert did not view it as an opportunity to kick a wounded dog, but rather as an opportunity to express his appreciation to his mentor, his business partner, his friend, by caring for his family and his business.

What about me? How do I react when I have been "wronged" by someone's poor choices? Do I view it as an opportunity to show mercy and grace? Or do I just try to save myself at all costs? Do I remember the commitments I made in an easier time? Am I loyal to those who have poured into me? Will I remember the example of integrity shown to me by Albert Hood?

July 21, 2011. My daddy's funeral. My words to Mr. Albert. "Thank you." At the time, it just meant "Thank you for making such a long trip to pay your respects." Today it means so much more.