When Mommy drinks wine
Vivacious and bubbly
And pretty and witty
I’m proud of my Mom
And where I’ve come from
We cook and we eat
We laugh and we fight
My Mommy drinks wine
I think she is fine
Friends gone
House lost
Family cling
To the woman that was
They never lose hope
They’re not sure how to cope
‘Friends’ that enable
They don’t give a shit
They take and they take
Because they just want a hit
The children, they shout
From the rooftops so loud
When Mommy drinks wine
She is not fine
She is fucked
She is sad
She’s confused
She’s depressed
It’s too hard to hear
So people laugh it off instead
They’re seeking attention
They don’t know they’re born
The kids are being silly
Until it’s time to mourn…
Mommy tried to get help
She wanted to stop
But it was accepted in culture
Drink like it’s pop
The weddings
The parties
The one with the roast
The one after dinner
In the sun
On a boat
With mates
One more
‘Come on, it’s not late’
Goaded, encouraged
Always taking the bait
The body, it changed
It bled from inside
The family watched on
It could no longer hide
The skin, it turned yellow
The mind, it went blank
She tried to stop drinking
Again and again
She tried
And she failed
And she tried hard
Again
Addictions no joke
And drink is the worst
It hovers around
Every street, it’s a curse
A £2.99 Blossom Hill
It’s on offer!
2-4-1 cocktails
It would be rude not to bother!
But the hurt in the eyes
When she knew
It was too late
The organs are failing
No time left to wait
The final goodbyes
Cut like a knife
The grief
And the pain
All for
‘one more wine’
It rips through the family
Because they’ll never stop
Loving the addict
The mother
The woman she was
The family, could see
Beyond all the shit
Vivacious and bubbly
The most wonderful spirit
Pretty and witty
Heartfelt and caring
Mommy drank wine
This time, she wasn’t fine.
—
Patsy’s image was taken on her wedding day just 18 months before her Mom passed away due to an alcohol related illness. Patsy says ‘My Mom did incredible for the wedding. She managed sobriety in the lead up to and during the 10 day stay in Portugal. She looked wonderful, she was relaxed in herself – it was such a privilege to get that time together.
It reminded me of who she really was beyond all of the addiction crap that always seemed to get in the way. I love her so much and I’m not angry… I’ve done all the anger and rage and it got me nowhere. Her addiction was not about me, it was her own mental illness that very sadly was just too hard to overcome. I don’t miss the baggage and the constant worry that comes with caring for and loving an addict but I do miss her”.
