One of my biggest regrets

In 1966 when I was 5 years old and my sisters were 6 and 7, my mom and us chipped in on a nice toolbox for my dad for Christmas. We were poor and this was a big purchase; he would have never spent the money to buy one for himself. Through the years he filled the toolbox with various tools, one at a time. He used the tools for normal things like working on our car or doing home repairs.

Also inside was a memento from his own dad who died when I was one years old. It was a small, old socket set that his dad used when he worked inside a prison for 15 years as a machinist in the 1930’s and 1940’s. The socket set was irreplaceable and maybe even valuable and my dad treasured it.

Well in 1989 when I was 28 I was addicted to crack and I sold most of my possessions for crack. TV’s, stereo’s, clothes, camera’s, watches etc. And being poor those were literally everything I owned that were worth any money. But one night my dad lent me his car even though both my sisters warned him repeatedly not to because of my drug history. Sure enough, I drove to the worst part of town for drugs. But I had no money. So when some street guy said he would trade me one rock of cocaine (worth $20.00) for my dads toolbox I said sure, and that’s what I did.

I smoked up the crack in 5 minutes and made the long trip home. When I started coming down off of the crack I had great remorse for selling the toolbox and I was scared of what my dad was going to say or do. I don’t think I’ve ever been so disappointed in myself. I got home and put off telling my dad but when I finally did he was angry but he was more disappointed in me then mad. He told me how irresponsible, I was and how much he had helped me and he was hurt that I would disregard his feelings and how I demonstrated such a lack of respect for his prized possession.

But he was also resigned to how I was always screwing up and that drugs and my illness combined were making me wreck my life and his. This was one of the low points of my life. But being the type of person that he was, my dad stuck by me and didn’t reject me or kick me out of the house or lay a hand on me. I don’t know how he controlled himself and not do me any harm but he was cool that way. But selling that toolbox was perhaps one my greatest regrets in life because of what it stood for and for the lost memories it caused.

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the toolbox was just a toolbox.
you were his son…that was more precious to him.
he sounds like a really decent human being.
take care :alien:

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Thanks, yeah, he was. He had his faults but he tried to do good and be fair to people. He raised us kids and both my sisters turned out to be good people and I like to think if he was still alive that he would be proud of me also.

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Yeah, I regret that I have a similar story to tell about my self medicating drug adventures.