My father taught me about indulgence. The pleasure of excess. He had mottos about it. Only order from the right side of the menu. Tip like a Rockefeller. It only costs an extra thousand to go first class. He made money to spend it, drank to get drunk, ate disproportionately down a narrow swath of the food pyramid (pasta, white bread, Hostess cakes and Oreos by the sleeve, sometimes a detour to corn or green peas drowned in butter). One weekend, both of us sick with the flu, he drove to the video store and returned with the first three seasons of The Sopranos. We had seen them before, but my father thought it would be fun to see them again while we waited for the virus to pass. We watched them in 12-hour blocks for three days straight, pausing only to eat ice cream and refill our grape sodas.

Years ago, his friends had ironic business cards made up for him: Danny Monticello: Moderation is the Key!

He was loved, of course. Who doesn’t love the permission of a friend who will always have seconds, always go one more round, always make the night last a little longer?

On the day we went to hear the results of his CAT scan, my father finished a worried cigarette outside the sliding glass doors of the urology office. “It’s not going to be good news,” he said. “I fucked up.”

I knew what he meant. He meant his life. The smoking. The drinking. He didn’t need anyone to tell him. But he was my big-hearted dad, and I couldn’t dream of blaming him for being him, of believing he deserved what we both knew was coming in those test results. Who deserves tumors because the hard things about being alive seem easier with a beer, or a smoke, or a bowl of Neopolitan? See, I’ve never understood the value of frugality, am mystified by self-deprivation. I loved to watch my father consume. Satiate. See his head loll and eyes glaze with the too-muchness of what could fill his one and only life.

Because he said yes. Because he said more.

Amy Monticello lives in Eau Claire with her husband, Jason Tucker, and newborn daughter, Benna. This piece is excerpted from “Moderation is the Key.” Her work has appeared in Creative Nonfiction, The Iron Horse Literary Review, Brevity, and elsewhere. She is a Visiting Assistant Professor at the UWEC. To learn more about Amy go to tensquaremiles.wordpress.com