Reality check - me, my dad, remembering.

I never remembered my dad sober, sober enough to have something in common...
You see, my dad was a teacher. a dedicated teacher, and it seems when he didn't have a job for drunkenness in the workplace, his sole purpose (it seems) was to yell at everyone in the house and drink alcohol.

Then, presided over my mental disorder, and waltzing (travelling) because I just couldn't at home... from the smell, the empty bottles and the screaming and the "friends"

(if we had known then) even though the whole family offered him help, he "kindly" refused it, and the screaming, the alcoholism, continued.

Some nine or eight years ago, on the 37(36)th day of my life, I saw my dad for the last time. He was without memory, orientation and emotions, he didn't know where left was, where right was. He was a shadow in a shell :-(

and then, after long research and suffering, he was diagnosed with two incurable cancers, one in his lungs and one in his brain. I won't go into details, but his whole life was "guilty" of a brain tumour which was large and painfully pressing on his skull
Six months later, on 8 March, he died
although I don't remember him sober, it was the beginning of my desire not to follow in his alcoholic footsteps ....
although it is difficult to do so here in the boarding house, but that's another story.