I was nine years old. My mam had just died from cancer. My older brother and I were staying at my grandparents for a few weeks.
My granda and nanny used to argue a lot. Years later I realised it was mainly due to his drinking problems. The bottle of vodka hidden behind the bins or stashed behind his Thomas Hardy collection.
After one of their daily spats, Granda brings myself and Jamie for a walk with the dog. We go by the parish, he brings us behind the sacristy and let’s the dog off the lead.
In the overgrown grass, he rummages around. Granda, that is, not the dog.
Eventually he finds his treasure, a 7up bottle. Never have I seen someone a whole bottle of 7up so quickly.
Jamie is special needs and starts getting upset when grandad starts slurring his words.
Next stop, the shopping centre, of course. Into the bleak cafeteria. He buys 7 or 8 sausage rolls and eats them all himself. I have no idea what is going on. My brother is getting agitated. Granddad is falling asleep, his face covered in pastry.
All the aul ones passing by the window give me dirty looks. I don’t know what is going on but I am frightened. My memories of an Irish Childhood
Waiting for the Dublin apologists to come and downvote me to hell, as usual
Thanks for sharing OP, it’s unfortunate a fairly common situation that many have experienced, If ya can try and talk to someone if needs be get some counciling, I’ll be getting some in the new year.
The shirt and tie of respectability, while on the way to the pub to spend the money buying rounds of drink while the wife and kids were at home in squalor, with barely enough to eat and clothes in tatters.
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I was nine years old. My mam had just died from cancer. My older brother and I were staying at my grandparents for a few weeks.
My granda and nanny used to argue a lot. Years later I realised it was mainly due to his drinking problems. The bottle of vodka hidden behind the bins or stashed behind his Thomas Hardy collection.
After one of their daily spats, Granda brings myself and Jamie for a walk with the dog. We go by the parish, he brings us behind the sacristy and let’s the dog off the lead.
In the overgrown grass, he rummages around. Granda, that is, not the dog.
Eventually he finds his treasure, a 7up bottle. Never have I seen someone a whole bottle of 7up so quickly.
Jamie is special needs and starts getting upset when grandad starts slurring his words.
Next stop, the shopping centre, of course. Into the bleak cafeteria. He buys 7 or 8 sausage rolls and eats them all himself. I have no idea what is going on. My brother is getting agitated. Granddad is falling asleep, his face covered in pastry.
All the aul ones passing by the window give me dirty looks. I don’t know what is going on but I am frightened. My memories of an Irish Childhood
Waiting for the Dublin apologists to come and downvote me to hell, as usual
Thanks for sharing OP, it’s unfortunate a fairly common situation that many have experienced, If ya can try and talk to someone if needs be get some counciling, I’ll be getting some in the new year.
The shirt and tie of respectability, while on the way to the pub to spend the money buying rounds of drink while the wife and kids were at home in squalor, with barely enough to eat and clothes in tatters.
Were the sausage rolls pork or beef