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Corey Mesler


I Never Saw My Father Drunk


I never saw my father drunk

yet he drank every

day, 2 to 3 beers in the evening,

bourbon on weekends. 

He was a quiet man, un-

assuming, I guess you’d say. 

He never talked about the 

war, nor did he ever seem

to carp about his life. Perhaps

he was happy. Perhaps it’s that

simple. Evenings, with his

drink, he often worked crosswords,

unless Gunsmoke or Mannix was

on. I heard him disagree with my

mother once. The house grew

so still afterward I thought some-

thing had died. The next night

nothing was changed. My father,

steady as a plaster mask, 

sipped his bourbon and found the

exact words to complete his puzzle,

words he never felt burdened to share. 


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