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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I am not going to waste too much time talking about my grandfather because I don't really care for him much. He is an alcoholic who is in denial by the way. I don't really spend that much time with him because just being around him rather upsets my mom, so we don't go there much...thank goodness. I know I am probably picking up on my mom's attitude about it all, but at this point and time it doesn't matter all that much. According to the one uncle I have that doesn't have any addictions, papa has been an alcoholic since before my mom was even born. Grandma did an excellent job hiding it from the kids until they all got older, then one by one they started to notice. My mom was the last one left at home and grandma joined anything to get out of the house. Bingo on Monday and Thursday at Star of the Sea, Tuesdays at St. Bernadette's, bowling on sundays and cards on Wednesdays, but that was at home with mom and her friends. Papa would get to drinking like he did every night after work, and once the alcohol took affect, he would bring out the musical intrusments and get very loud and obnoxious. Many times mom would have to drag him to the couch and get him functioning long enough to get on it. The day my mom met my dad and they decided to move out, grandma said her job was done, the kids were grown and she was leaving. Papa eventually remarried and he still drinks. The funny part is that he says he doesn't drink anymore. He only has beer and wine, but that is not drinking according to him. What a joke, huh?
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