My dad was an alcoholic and wifebeater. A “machista” with very little room for love in his heart. He had his moments of clarity but were few and far between. My brother and I were not allowed show any kind of emotion towards each other or towards him. This was considered not “manly”. My dad would beat us if he observed us hugging or saying, “I love you” to each other, especially when he was drunk. I, as a young boy, still looked up to him because after all he was my dad. I did not know better, I was a child after all. The pain from the belt, the fear form seeing a violent drunk. This was all signs of aurthority. I look at this picture with me and my youngest son. I see a child that feels secure in the arms of his super heroe. Through my tears as I write this blog, I am glad I let my 2 boys express affection, compassion and speak to me about anything. I show them that a parents “love” doesn’t have to hurt.