It was about 10 years ago. My brother had just been deployed to Iraq, and my mother had been dead for 5 years. She died in a car accident, a drunk driver blindsided her. My father was suffering from depression and there were times when my sister and I feared he might take his own life. I pulled into my father's driveway to find him hard at work, mowing the lawn. He invited me inside for a cold beer. He handed me the ice cold bottle, so cold it felt like it was burning my hand. I took a swig and watched my father wipe sweat from his forehead with an old bandana. He in turn drank from his bottle. The beer was refreshing, but a little weak for my liking. My father had taken to drinking non-alcoholic beers, per doctor's orders. He said to me, "Son, I hope you're enjoying life." I smiled weakly and replied, "I am, dad."