When I was 18 I moved in with my grandfather.
Lawrence, or 'Grandpaw' as I called him, was 79 at the time. Still lived alone, and even ran his own business. A bar called 'Larry's'. He was a staunch veteran of World War II, and Korea. Built the house that he lived in, and had lived there alone since the death of his wife 40 years earlier.
His hearing was impaired and he required 1/4 inch bifocals for reading and driving, though he never wore them when he drove. Larry's left leg was longer than the right, the difference decided by a bullet in Korea. He had to wear a special shoe on one foot sporting a thicker sole that evened his gait. He could walk without it but not without a loud thud every other step.
Larry only talked about the wars when he'd been drinking, meaning he talked about it all the time. He chewed Kodiak, sipped Miller Lite and drank Phillips Blackberry Brandy. The bar he owned supplied the fuel for his alcoholism. He'd wake up around nine everyday. Cooked breakfast, watched the History channel for a couple hours, and then headed to tavern around 4 o'clock to count the till.