posted on Dec, 24 2016 @ 02:47 PM
a reply to:
CJCrawley
I've heard lots of stories about just how awful it was to be around my grandfather. I even have a very sad Christmas story.
My grandparents were poor and my grandfather often lost jobs due to his drinking and partying ways. My mom/aunt/uncle spent many Christmases with only
hand-me-down or handmade presents because my grandfather thought it was stupid to spend money on that stuff. One particular Christmas, my grandfather
was off on one of his drinking escapades, and my grandmother had a few dollars put away, so she went out and bought one new gift for each of her kids.
She gave my uncle (aged 12) a bb gun, my mom (aged 9) a cheap little record player with one record, and my aunt (aged 6) a brand new doll. Those kids
were so ecstatic to get those gifts, you can only imagine. My aunt carried that doll around all Christmas day and never let go of it, even when she
was eating.
My grandfather came home late Christmas night, and he was in a rage because he had run out of money for booze. He saw the bb gun laying around and
demanded to know what was up. My grandmother had to tell him about the gifts. He screamed and yelled how dare she spend HIS money without his
permission. He demanded that she take those gifts back the very next day. She tried and tried to talk him out of it, but he was starting to get very
threatening.
Soooo, the day after Christmas, she had to ask the kids for the presents back. My uncle and my mom were old enough to know that it would be better for
everyone if they quietly gave back the gifts. My poor aunt just couldn't understand. My grandmother had to pry that doll from her fingers while she
screamed "why???" Makes me tear up just writing this.
There is a happy ending though. My grandmother's second husband (who she married after her kids were grown) was the sweetest, kindest, most adorable
man. He heard my mom and my aunt tell that story one year, so when the next Christmas came around, he had gone out by himself, unknown to my
grandmother, and bought a couple of expensive collector dolls. He hid the gifts, and after everyone had opened their presents, he brought those gifts
out. He whispered to my aunt that she would never have to give up her doll again. There wasn't a dry eye in the house that Christmas. He bought
collector dolls for my mom and my aunt every Christmas until the year he died.