The roots of Cornbread Hustle come from my codependent desire to help my dad.
I thought maybe if I started a company that helps people in recovery, it would motivate my dad to get on board with a new way of living.
After five years of reignited hope becoming disappointments over and over, I experienced the biggest disappointment of my life: My dad died.
Imagine the strength it took to still care about a company that was built to help him. Imagine the temptation to wreck my sobriety as an act of revenge. “Look what you made me do!” is what I wanted to say.
I felt like I had the greatest excuse to drink. Everyone already told me that they’d understand. It was like I had a hall pass, labeled “GRIEF.”
In my previous blog entry, I mentioned that leaving a legacy is as simple as inspiring one person to live differently, even after we die.
I had a choice: continue the damage my dad caused, or remember the good and help him leave a legacy.
I made the decision to pick up the legacy he was unable to carry out.
I set out to do what I believe he wanted so badly to do: be sober and serve others.
Complex grief can be difficult. My last conversation with my dad was an argument because I was upset with the way he was living. I had to go through a lot of ups and downs, and at times, I was very angry.
Eventually the anger turned to empathy. I love my dad for exactly who he was. His death taught me things he wasn’t able to teach me on this earth. I know that he did his very best, though.
Today, I am empowered to help him leave a legacy with every employee I hire, every speech I make, every blog I write, and every person I inspire. One day at a time.
For a while, I thought that my dad’s death was the end, but God helped me see that it was just the beginning.
I love you, dad. Thank you for inspiring me.