I don't know really what else to say about all this

Dad left his job at the rubber company after 35 years.
He became a landscape artist which he loved doing
he worked until he was 60
and then retired.

After both my parents retired, I took them to Italy with me...
well ... they paid... but I guided

I remember, we had a hotel 1 block form the entrance to the Vatican
but my mother never knew when to get off the subway

I kept asking her
Me: Who do we live next to ?

Mom: I don't know...

Me: We live next to the Pope

Mom: Oh, yeah...

Me: where does the Pope live?

Mom: In Rome?

Me: oh mommy

One night, in Florence... dad drank 3 straight vodkas.
He was toasted
really ripped.
He could barely walk after it.
While trying to find a taxi... he staggered along
every time someone would walk by him
he'd stop them
put out his hand to shake their's
and say
Hi! My name in Ken. I'm American...

Oh daddy...

My parents bought gold in Florence
ate pizza in Rome
rode a gondola in Venice
cute cute cute

It was the night of the three vodkas that I began to notice a difference in dad.
That was about 8 years ago?
He could drink my dad... that was the first time I'd ever seen him so drunk he couldn't walk

as he sobered up, he told mom and me about his parents
one night his father came home very angry
he walked up to his mother and slapped her hard across the face
YOU WHORE he called at her
YOU CHEATING WHORE
and he slapped her again
Grandpa had found condoms hidden in the garage.
He suspected his wife was cheating on him (apparently he'd always been jealous)

In Rome my dad cried telling us the story
because he was there when his father hit his mom
and
My dad also knew whose condoms they were
They were his brother's condoms
but my father was to scared to say anything
so he blamed himself for his mother's pain

but it was odd as well... he... didn't seem like dad
telling us a story
I don't know how to explain
but I think that Alzheimer
was already... making its entrance