So we got Bella a new car, shiny red and sporty.

Her choosing to smoke cigarettes? I was unhappy.

You may think cigarettes a minor thing?

But my baby, the one I had nurtured, filled her perfect lungs with nicotine. In my eyes, she was damaging herself.

We ran an open house for her friends. They came before a night out, shared drinks, more of that later–came home with her to sleep. I encouraged this, bring my baby home safely with others, not let her wander the streets alone.

Was I over protective? Yes I was, and I knew it. But, we are who we are. Bella was my precious cargo, outside in the world.

One evening, after her friends arrived, I walked past the hall window, saw her sat on my drive, in her car, with these friends–SMOKING. I was furious.

After she left home for an evening of dancing, I cut pictures from magazines: diseased lungs–health warnings–blackened teeth, and stuck the images over her dressing table mirror. The next day she ripped them off.

We compromised: cigarettes stayed, but at a distance from me.

Years later: she would walk five steps behind me in the street, to spark up a fag, a roll up at that.

I wish that was all I had to worry about now.

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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.

2 Comment on “The Battle of Cigarettes

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