The night before I married my first husband, fifty years ago in Dublin, I told my parents that if they drank at the wedding reception, I would never speak to them again.
Paula, beautiful relatable story on many shared large Irish family traits 'the view of women who drank.' I love this line: "The relationship between trauma and addiction was not well understood fifty years ago. Drinking to excess was seen as self-indulgent, a moral failing. I’m grateful that time and distance have combined to change my perspective. I now understand my mother drank not because of a weak character, but to cope with a body wearing out before its time from unremitting pregnancy and as a way to swallow her anger and disappointment. It was also a way to mourn a loss of self."
Thank you Spyro. You raise an interesting question about how women like my mother coped with their particular societal and cultural pressures without taking to the drink. Buying fancy curtains in defiance of your father, as your own mother did, was certainly a less destructive coping mechanism. Good for her.
Wonderful, exceptionally good writing: precise, evocative, finely observed. Alcohol is so often the escape hatch and, sometimes, a form or rebellion in Irish society. I wonder now how women in other cultures responded to the same oppressive pressures; societies where alcohol was not so obviously at hand, nor so deeply entrenched. I guess I'm thinking of my own mother: she took up smoking and bought fancy curtains, against my father's wishes. That showed him.
A tender and compassionate portrayal of your mother - in hindsight. "Heart-scalding" is a perfect way to describe your regret. But we all see through different lenses at different times of life. I hope you can bring that compassion back to your young and nervous self too.
Paula, beautiful relatable story on many shared large Irish family traits 'the view of women who drank.' I love this line: "The relationship between trauma and addiction was not well understood fifty years ago. Drinking to excess was seen as self-indulgent, a moral failing. I’m grateful that time and distance have combined to change my perspective. I now understand my mother drank not because of a weak character, but to cope with a body wearing out before its time from unremitting pregnancy and as a way to swallow her anger and disappointment. It was also a way to mourn a loss of self."
Thank you.
Thank you Prajna for your kind and wise words
Thank you Spyro. You raise an interesting question about how women like my mother coped with their particular societal and cultural pressures without taking to the drink. Buying fancy curtains in defiance of your father, as your own mother did, was certainly a less destructive coping mechanism. Good for her.
Wonderful, exceptionally good writing: precise, evocative, finely observed. Alcohol is so often the escape hatch and, sometimes, a form or rebellion in Irish society. I wonder now how women in other cultures responded to the same oppressive pressures; societies where alcohol was not so obviously at hand, nor so deeply entrenched. I guess I'm thinking of my own mother: she took up smoking and bought fancy curtains, against my father's wishes. That showed him.
What a magnificent piece of writing - and what a wrenching story. Thank you. I am now going to subscribe.
A very touching story. Thx.
A wonderful essay. Thank you. So many regrets for understanding our mothers when it’s too late to say so. And so many regrets for being a brat.
A tender and compassionate portrayal of your mother - in hindsight. "Heart-scalding" is a perfect way to describe your regret. But we all see through different lenses at different times of life. I hope you can bring that compassion back to your young and nervous self too.
I want to continue reading. It reminds me a little of “Mad men”. And of me, of course. And my mom.
Such a wisely insightful, exquisitely written piece.
I really appreciate your observant eye and your deep concern.
What a gem of an essay! Thank you for sharing.
sudden insight and regret. very painful until you realize are grateful for it.
terrific piece, thank you.
Thank you, Abigail. My book club here in Quebec just finished reading your "Still Life at 80". Thumbs up all around.
Oh my goodness, thank you, I love knowing that. Please thank them for me. And again, thank you for your wonderful writing.
Thanks for your honesty and perspective, and mainly your kindness.
Very moving and loving. Thank you for sharing this Paula.
Wow, what a gorgeous, heart-opening piece. I’m so glad Rona pointed me here.
So beautiful. So bittersweet.