Grandad is a drinker, first class. The only thing he likes in this world is alcohol, nothing else. He boozes every day, at every meal, including breakfast. No one could dissuade him. Should there be a drinking Olympiad, Grandad would be a gold medallist.

One day years ago, Grandad was down with a bad cold. His doctor put him on a drip. Back home at the lunch table he still insisted on taking his stuff. Even a kid knows that if you are getting an injection or an IV, you should not ingest any alcohol. Alcohol, mixed with some drugs in your bloodstream, would cost your life. Despite everything, Grandad remained adamant and drank. A physician himself, Father tried to persuade Grandad out of it. The two of them ended up in a blazing row.

Although the whole family were for his good, Grandad did not appreciate it. Consequently, the relationship between him and us soured and rotted. These years, the only time we visit him is the first day of the lunar Chinese New Year.

Alcohol is a brain killer. Grandad now exhibits early symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. He often misrecognises people. He cannot even tell the time. Once he is drunk, his behaviour will be out of order. He was on an occasion seen urinating on the high street by some neighbours during the day. If a family member comments on his habit, he will retort bitterly, “I will stop drinking once I am dead!”

Is there any chance that Grandad might stop drinking and save himself one day? I doubt it.