alcoholic parent

Grieving For An Alcoholic Parent At Christmas-Even Though They’re Still Alive


I know it’s Christmas-a time for magic, happiness, excitement and love. And I don’t want to put a downer on you, my lovely readers, at Christmas, but I also don’t think pretending mine is full of the above is normal either.
If I’m honest, this post has been a long time coming, and, if no one else reads it, I’ll at least get it all off of my chest and out of my head.


The point of this post, is basically that I am grieving for a Mother who is still alive, which isn’t a new feeling-it’s not a new grief, it’s something I’ve been processing for a long time-four years to be precise.

However, as it is Christmas, this brings a whole new range of feelings into play.

I watch other families-other Sons and Daughters-and hear their plans for their Christmases with their parents-with their Mums.
Here I am, a Mother myself, hearing my Son as he walks into school, telling his friends about his plans with his Dad and me-and I can’t imagine ever choosing anyone or anything over him or his Sister.
But, yet here I am, unable to tell my friends about the plans I’ve made with my Mum-because I don’t have her to make plans with.

She’s missed so much of my life, and I’ve needed her so much, so many times; during the births of my children, at their Birthdays, at my Birthdays, when I lost my three babies, every Christmas and, well, everything in between.

I used to be so angry with her, so resentful of her choice to choose alcohol and an alcoholic Husband over one of her children, and I know that anger will resurface the day she dies. I’ll resent her for wasting so much time when she could’ve accepted the many opportunities I’ve given her to salvage our relationship.
I do know however, that I’ve done absolutely everything I could.


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So that just leaves the sadness and jealousy.

Sometimes the completely overwhelming sadness that engulfs me-and the jealousy I feel when I see others with their Mums.
I’m sad that my babies don’t know their Grandmother-although my seven year old son was only three when our relationship ended, so he doesn’t even remember her, and, as she cut ties with me the morning after I’d had my daughter, she doesn’t even think twice about not having two Grandmothers.


I do sometimes find myself desperate to be over-grateful for those I do have-in a hope, gratefulness will cut through the sadness-but I think I know deep down it doesn’t work like that. Of course I’m grateful, I have an amazing Mother-in-law and Stepmother, and a close relationship with my Dad-but they’re never going to fill that gap left by a Mum.

I’ve realised anything, it’s that the process of grieving, clearly doesn’t work the same when the person you’re grieving for is still alive.

I suppose, all I can do, is make sure I don’t make the same mistakes with my babies-and continue processing how I deal with it all.

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