Bella had the keys to her house. Tiny bubbles raced to the top of champagne. Cheers!

Renovations were started. Husband turned large downstairs cupboard into washroom with a toilet. The kitchen was ripped out and replaced with a brand spanker. Windows were changed throughout. And a  new front door with shiny unused keys.

I received a telephone call: Boyfriend’s Dad had fallen off a ladder at the house. Could I take him to hospital? I rushed over. ‘Don’t tell the wife,’ he demanded, ‘Her nerves are bad.’

His leg had broken, and he was laid up for months.

Husband and I carried on renovating. Daughter was busy with her workload. Boyfriend? Got himself an evening job at a supermarket, and got tired easily. Bless.

Church was booked for the wedding at his parish. He is a Catholic, their faith not ours.

My husband and I returned from a holiday. Our daughter greeted us with a trace of tears still visibly shown on her face.

There had been a pre-marital meeting: the priest held out a document, and urged Bella to sign it. She would not. He slammed the offered pen on the table. She  disobeyed the priest, and would not commit any future children to a Catholic schooling. The priest refused to join Bella and Boyfriend in matrimony in his church.

Boyfriend’s mother was in a rage. Trouble? It was brewing.

Old door-1

Addict Child by Lesley Sefton buy on amazon
 

I am the mother of two adult daughters, both much loved and cared for. The eldest thought she could handle social drinking and party drugs, she could not. There is a journey addicts relate to - their journey. As a mother I have healed through the written word. This is my journey.

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