I hate drugs. I hate alcohol.
They destroy individuals, families, lives, and homes.
They leave behind a path of pain and heartache,
and a trail that is specific and haunting.
I hate memories of dealing with drugs and alcohol.
The memories of finding a passed out body
and children left alone.
I hate memories.
Memories of violent outbursts that must belong
to someone other than the one I love.
I hate the memories.
Memories of the lies, deceit, cover-ups, and denial.
It’s just that, here I am, stuck in the memories.
Fearing the memories to come alive again.
It’s just that I want so badly to hope and believe,
but the barrier is erected.
It’s just that I desire recovery but I cannot provide it.
How did we get here?
It’s just that I had these dreams for each one of them, my loves.
I had dreams that they probably never dreamt.
I had hopes and visions of a life I thought would be perfect for each, individual soul.
It’s just that it’s hard to let go, to allow, to be a spectator.
It’s just that I am a mother, but my dreams do not matter.
My hopes do not matter.
My visions do not matter.
Their lives are their own.
The good, the bad, and the ugly.
It’s just that… I am their mother.
Photo by George Becker on Pexels.com
I invite you to visit the website of Kate Motaung for full details and rules (well the one rule). http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/
All are welcome and invited to take part in joining women around the world for Five Minute Friday! You will be given a prompt word, then simply take five minutes of your day to write a heartfelt, authentic message (no need to edit) using that word!
Thank you for sharing such an intimate part of your soul here. I pray for peace in the midst of your longings and hearts receptive to the mercies of God.
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Amen Stephanie! Thank you dear.
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