In the mid 90's me and my family lived in russia. My father was a gambler, but a good one so we lived good, very above the average. By the way all this was told by my mother, since my father never told me any of the things stated in this blog. My father never tought me how to play poker, but he is very good at the game. He never talked to me about poker, and when I started conversation he would change topic and if I insisted he would get pissed off at me. Only a year ago I understood why. I will try to tell this story the way my mom did, and try my best in writing correctly!

 

 My father used to play cards with, what I tought, were his friends every week at Saturday. I remember how he would leave the house late after dinner and because of that he and my mom sometimes argued about it in the kitchen. One day my father lost a lot of money in that "club" and he also bet our house, the car and he's company ownership (he was the owner of a metallurgical company). I remember one night he returning home and after he and my mom talked a lot and myu mom cried, remember going to the kitchen to see what had happened and my father took me back to my room. I remember his face like it was yesterday and everytime I think about it I gives me goosebumps. Some weeks later we moved to another country (won't state it here due to privacy reasons), my father started working as a truck driver, he spends most of the time at work so most of the times I don't see him for like 3 months and when he comes back it's for only 5 days or so. We're not rich and we're not poor either, but now every cent is important. After some years my little sister joined our family, she's 9 now! My father never played again and doens't let me play. Good thing he doesn't know what I do every week...

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