Collectively Wise

He went from 'drunk and happy' to 'sad and sober' and I went with him

[Anonymous Guest Post]

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.

Mother of 5 Leaves Children to Care for Her Alcoholic Mother in Thailand

I am single mother of five. I had to leave my children in Houston, Texas on November 3rd, 2007 and move to Udornthani, Thailand, when I found out that my mother was ill and that she could no longer care for herself. At first, I thought it was an illness that was unavoidable, but when I got here, I found out that she was sick because of alcoholism. The type of alcoholism that you have to drink to just get up in the morning. I took my mother to the hospital and watched the doctors put tubes and IV’s in her. It was the most heart breaking sight that I ever saw. My father called from Texas and it was my first time hearing him cry. All he asked from me was to make sure that I do whatever it takes to keep her alive.

I sat by her bedside for 13 days, watching her in agony, seeing the tears from her eyes. There was nothing I could do to stop her pain. When they finally took out the tube from her mouth, she promised me that she would never drink again. She told me that she was “scared”. She is my mother and I believed her.

Today, on August 7th, 2010, at the age of 37, I sit here and watch my mother each day, drink herself into nothingness. It hurts to watch her kill herself each passing day. Needless to say, she never kept her promise. During the day, I have to make sure she eats, takes a shower, change her clothes and clean up after her. I am not talking about cleaning dishes, washing clothes, etc. I am talking about wiping up her vomit, urine and her feces.