Many stories could be told of how children follow in their
parent’s footsteps, it truly is a mystery, how an illness can
afflict some and not others!
There comes a part in the closure of day, when the evening
In memory of my father and uncle
brings repose to the weary and mirth to the gay.
A story is told of two little boys of the same kin, no one knows
what happened to them, or where to begin.
So allow this be told and the reader know, this story of the
children could be tenfold told.
A local tavern in the village square, brings vintage wine
among other fare.
Beer flows, laugher rings, bringing about joy to father
and boys.
Becoming drunk, he is angry and mean, they don’t understand
and become sullen and sad.
They are grown now, father is gone, they still go to the bar not
knowing it is wrong.
One has a drink, that is enough, the other boy sits on the stool
long into the night.
I often wonder, why was one lost to alcohol and one was not?
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