1981 new year's eve

My dad, around midnight new year's eve, 1981, went out our front door----with me having to identify his shriveled up, green, corpse, in march, when he was taken from the river that flowed past our house.
He was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease a few months prior.  For decades, I thought it was pain from Parkinson's disease that caused his suicide; during this last year I finally realized it was because he could no longer be a big shot; no more good paying job at Bethlehem steel, no more 12 hours! of bar hopping on Saturdays, no more driving 8 miles to the church in his hometown.
Anybody with common sense could have seen this as deja vu, after his father, 10 years before I was born, died from getting hit by a car, a few months after he reached retirement age.  He's buried at the far end of a cemetery, where, 60 years later, there still isn't anybody buried nearby.  From the little I can piece together, my grandfather probably wasted his paycheck in bars, seeing how my dad once said he had to live with a school friend, cause the family was so poor.
My dad's childhood shame and poverty and dysfunctional family transferred onto me when I was growing up, with boozing, money wasting, him ashamed of...ME.  No doubt he was ashamed of me even being bullied in school, though he never said as much.  Was my hateful mom who yelled at me when somebody told her a student had me held to the ground.
Hopefully, this will be the last year for me to obsess about my lousy parents, now that I've finally figured out lots of crazy, confusing, stuff I shrugged off for decades.  This will also probably be the last year for my elderly cat---its my elderly cat I pity, and have lots of photos of.  I threw away all photos of my parents and whatever relatives---its because of them that all I have now days for friends/family are my 2 cats.