A Little Corner Bar called Home

Just sitting here thinking of a little Corner Bar that I all to often called Home.    
 It was a place that I would run to as a young boy just to grab a glimpse of a super hero named dad, seen from the cloudy window with his frosty pint topped with foam.      
 He was a good provider, as this youngest child of ten could profoundly attest.      
 It still breaks my heart when I reflect how as a little boy I would search through all of the old photo albums, unsuccessfully seeking for just a single photo of me with him, finding countless smiling faces of good times captured with my dad and all the rest.      
 Was it me who sent him off to his new safe haven, a little Corner Bar that he now called Home, to try to drink me away?      
 Was I my super hero's kryptonite that led him from a loving family and home, yearning to go astray?      
 It would always make me smile to see him happy, hearing his laughter through the open door on cool summer weekend nights as the whiskey chased away his pain.      
This place became home for him where everybody adored him and where he unquestionably did reign.      
 Many years had passed as his youngest child swiftly turned 18 in just a blink of an eye.      
 I was looking forward to coming to his Home, to this simple Corner Bar to have a drink with my super hero sitting right by my side.      
 I will eternally remember walking through the door of this smoked filled bar, coming face to face with my hero, "my dad".      
 He was just sitting there lifeless, where he was once the life of the party, appearing broken and sad.      
 I proudly thanked him for giving all of us a good life as I raised my glass in his honor on the day I finally became a man.      
 I wistfully started to feel a new connection to this simple Corner Bar, seeming like Home again as I reminisced of my childhood, where it all had began.      
 I saw this rugged man weep for the first time in my entire life as he uttered the words, "I Love you Son",  holding me very close.      
 His heart was shattered as he tried to gather the courage to tell me in his words of what I already knew, that I was not his biological son, apologizing through painful tears exposing all of his loving woes.      
 We found peace and understanding on my memorable 18th birthday in a simple Corner bar that I can now officially call Home.      
 My dad has since passed but I continue to feel his presence in this little Corner Bar where his soul will forever survive and continue to roam.      
 As the years pass me by I still find myself sitting on his indelible stool having my frosted pint of beer chased by a whiskey shot to celebrate my super hero, who no longer has to be sad.      
 This little Corner Bar is where I found a piece of my Life, my Home, and my Hero, ''my Dad".