My Dad always kept a roof over our heads, worried about us if we weren't home on time, saw to it we respected our elders, impressed upon us how important education was, instilled a great work ethic in all of us. He was a deacon in our church and helped older people with odd jobs at their homes. He and Mom took us on one long camping trip each summer, and weekend trips when we sometimes got to bring a friend with us. Dad got up early on weekends and fixed a big breakfast for everyone so Mom could sleep in.
I know that when I got older, I didn't see excessive drinking as 'excessive.' So when I met Late AH, the amount he drank was worrying, but hey, it never caused my Dad any real trouble. One spring Mom broke her leg, and I called one evening to see how she was. Dad answered the phone clearly out of it and I realized he was of no help to her at all during that episode. His DWI / vehicular manslaughter came 12 years after I married, and that was the only DWI he ever had. Obviously, having my 76-year-old father go to prison was disastrous.
It took me a long time to admit my marriage was a mistake. AH's decline was far more rapid than my father's. By the time he was 59, his drinking had cost him three jobs in six years. It was probably just luck he never killed anyone driving. Or maybe he just kept so much beer on hand, he never had to go out to get more while he was drunk.