To alcohol...

To alcohol, thief of the most precious,


You stole from me, or perhaps I gave willingly. But the truth is, you wrapped it all up in an irresistable bow in order to get it. You stole precious moments between me and my daughter. Moments I will never get back. Opportunities long gone.

You stole them by making me drunk. You stole them by leaving me passed out. And you stole them by feeding my selfishness and by absorbing my focus.

She sought my attention. I ignored her. She woke up from a nap and walked around wondering why Mommy was still asleep. I lost my temper. I lost my patience. I didn't have to.

These were two precious years. The years that she is first learning her way in the world. The years that she is first learning what it means to feel loved. The years when she is first learning who Mommy is. These were the years of first steps and first words. Patty cake and itsy-bitsy spider. Pig tails and bloomers. Pink cheeks and delighted wonder.

Now she is learning to use the potty. She is talking in chains of sentences. She is exploring the world in fearless abandon, and asking "why" about everything she sees. And before I know it, she will be doing her first dance recital, getting her first girl scout badge, going to her first dance and flying away from me here to find her way in the world.

She is beautiful. And I may have lost that precious time. But I will not let you steal any more of it. It is like piles of gold to me. And I see now all the lies that you told me. All the lies you got me to tell myself. I see them for what they are now, and recognize what I have lost. From here on out I will be valuing every moment I have with her. I will not be listening to you. You will not steal her from me, for I know that is your goal. I still have a lifetime of precious moments with her. I still have an opportunity to build a loving relationship with her that we can both cherish. I will pour myself into being healthy for her, and being a good mother to her. I will focus on our future together and all of the blessings in store for us.

stay away,

L.'s mother