As the warm rays of the sun filtered through the mauve velvet curtains in our master bedroom, I rolled over expecting to find my husband, John. When I rolled over, he was not in bed, though his imprint was still impressed in the mattress. Knowing that he had been struggling with some very difficult business proposals, which were rejected, he must have stayed up late trying to restore that business deal. So, I tossed the covers to the other side of the bed, and plopped my feet onto the floor, and headed for the bedroom door. As I walked upon the cold, wooden floors that lined the hallway, I quickly peeked into my children's bedroom, and viewing them sleeping soundly, made my way down the hall to John's home office. Upon entering the door to his home office, and finding it partially cracked open, I gently pressed it open completely, and walked in. Once in the office, I spotted my husband passed out, slumped over his desk, with his head resting on his keyboard. Nestled in the crook of his arm, rested a half-full whiskey bottle. 'Oh, John,' I thought inside myself, cringing, 'you said you'd quit drinking. That was two-years-ago, when we had a major crisis. Quite determined, I marched over to my husband, clutched the whiskey bottle, walked to the kitchen to pour out the remaining alcohol. Then I discarded the bottle, and prepared a small breakfast of cheesy scrambled eggs, coffee and chocolate chip oatmeal pancakes. After I had made breakfast, i placed some eggs and pancakes on a plate, covered with plastic wrap and placed in the refrigerator for John. Knowing I had to make a quick decision, I hurried down the hall, packed some things in a duffle bag, such as extra money, socks, several changes of clothing, and many other things. After quickly getting the girls up and dressed, fed them breakfast and got them into the car, we left. I called my sister who lived in Boston, and told her the situation, and she insisted we come there.