I was sitting in the living room watching my grandma’s favorite Spanish soap opera. The doorbell rings and my uncle gets up to open the door.  A stranger says that he brought this old man that claims that he lives here.  My uncle tells the stranger that the old man doesn’t live here, that he has the wrong house.

The old man pushes his way into the house and starts flipping off and using profanity towards my uncle. The stranger that brought the old man is looking at my uncle very confused. My uncle laughs and tells him that his dad got out of the map, that’s why he got lost and thanks him for bringing him. This old man was my grandpa.

My grandpa was a heavy drinker and would get disoriented sometimes and total strangers would bring him home.  Sometimes it was even the cops because they already knew him.  My grandpa was 99% drunk most of the time.  He would share crazy stories such as that he knew Hitler and that he was a Spaniard and he knew all these languages. I don’t think Hitler ever went to El Salvador but my grandpa had a big imagination.

My grandpa was madly in love with my grandma but due to his heavy drinking they were not a couple. I would always hear stories from my grandma that he put a curse on her. There is always two sides of a story. My grandpa would share stories that he sold his soul to get my grandma’s heart; that he made a pact with the devil.

I could feel the tension between them. Any moment my grandpa could get to just touch my grandma’s hand, he would touch and run like a little kid. My grandma would throw whatever she had handy at him to scare him away.  It was so funny watching them play with their love hate relationship.

My grandpa is no longer here but I will always remember him. Did you have a grandpa like mine?