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22 | drinkanddrugsnews | November 2012
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The following few days, Francis and I sat talking. It was like I was in a
movie; he accepted me and I was totally head over heels in love with him. We
had connected on a plane that I never imagined possible, and I had never felt
such love.
I learnt all about his traumatic life and how he was a single dad of a little boy,
Francis junior, who was four and a half. I was in awe of him. We spent every
moment possible together and I could be honest in a way I had never been.
On Saturday morning the house was a buzz of residents excitedly preparing to
meet their families, with all the girls swapping clothes and make-up. I felt a bit
sad as I was not going to see my family, but something else brought smiles into
my day; I had seen photos of Francis junior and today I was going to meet him.
The sun was shining, the birds were singing in the trees and the sky was blue
with soft weightless clouds. It was like a fairytale with the sound of laughter and
the serene, tranquil atmosphere. I was sitting in the back garden when the most
amazingly cute little boy walked in and ran over to his daddy to give him the
biggest cuddle in the world.
I watched as Francis spun him around. The sun’s rays were illuminating his
innocent chubby little face, the same emerald eyes twinkling with innocence and
wonderment, in his denim dungarees and little denim jacket with his spiky gelled-
up hair. I was in love – I knew that very instant I was going to be his mummy. He
came over and shook my hand and as we played in garden and chatted away.
I felt so at ease, a moment I experienced again twice in my life when Chloe
and Joseph were born – that same feeling of unconditional love and acceptance
for your child. There in front of me were the fairytales I had been telling my
keyworker only a few weeks ago.
Next issue: Can Marie make a go of a new life?
First person |
Marie’s story
‘I had dreams and hopes of being a mum, with a
few children and a husband who would love me in
the same way I would love him. I’d have a garden
and decent jobs – nothing too extraordinary...’
In the third part of her story,
Marie Tolman
books into rehab
and allows herself to start dreaming of a future
My journey
of self-discovery
BY THE TIME I REACHED 21 I HAD REALLY STARTED TO HATE MY LIFE
and
wanted out of this lonely existence. I feared I had caused so much pain and
heartache that my family would never accept me, and certainly not the society I
had wreaked havoc in. My family had always stood by me and even my local
community knew I wasn’t a bad person, just a troubled soul.
I was due in court again and expecting a custodial sentence, so I decided to
give rehab a try once more. It was a beautiful August Monday morning in 1988.
I was already into my third day of withdrawal when my mum and dad took me up
to Phoenix House. They had bought me all new things in the hope that this time
it would work. Of course I promised them this time would be good, but internally
I was still unsure if I was ever able to be a ‘normal person’. I kept thinking ‘I am
damaged goods and deserve no better’.
As I walked into this Georgian house, I felt overwhelmed, as I knew this was
day when there was no hiding place. I had to meet the person I looked at each
morning in the mirror, but she was a stranger that I had to confront, accept and
make peace with.
I noticed this guy standing at the bottom of the stairs; his eyes twinkled like
emeralds, so handsome. He came over and introduced himself as Francis –
funny ’cos that’s my dad’s name too – and his voice gave me tingles all up my
spine. I was totally transfixed by his presence. I hadn’t had feelings like this
before, but he put me at ease and reassured my mum and dad that he would
look after me and I would be OK.
Alone and unsure what my future held, I had dreams and hopes of being a
mum, with a few children and a husband who would love me in the same way I
would love him. I’d have a garden and decent jobs – nothing too extraordinary –
but normality had evaded me for so long. Would I ever be privy to the life most
people take for granted?