Busy day today...children; shopping and swimming lessons. Trying to get things organised for a big family landing on Tuesday evening,the night before the funeral.
His parents do not know he uses heroin yet they will be there..apparently...
As a member of the family of the 'druggie, scummy no good, dead leg..' partner of their precious son, I feel strange. Angry and defensive.
I am very intelligent.
Strong.
Sensible.
Living a reasonably healthy life, my red wine never disturbs my daily morals...I never sold my children's toys or clothes they received for Christmas...on Boxing Day, for my next fix.
I have never prostituted myself to get my next kick either, although I leave myself wide open here for judgement...
I would never wish my children to be in an environment I would not wish to be in myself. I would never have Christmas Eve with them in ill fitting nightwear and no Christmas tree and no presents....waiting to sell their grandparents' presents when her children returned home the next day...
How could she?
How dare she?
Yet heroin eats and steals reason and love and kindness.
Finally, it stole her, their mother.
Who receives the punishment; who pays for the crime....they do...
I am from remarkably good 'stock' so to speak and I really hope they do not look down on me...I will go for the jugular if that is the case. They have no idea of their son's lifestyle...
There is no gathering after her body is burnt...just the brothers and the sister who are now left; the youngest dying first...
We will sit quietly somewhere with no one else...her pond life acquaintances...well... we have nothing but contempt for.... can disappear into the benefit-filled bedsit background from which they crawled... The children will be at home with someone else..our children...

We do not want them contaminated in any way ...they are too young and I have no desire for any heroin addict 'mate' of the deceased, their auntie, to ruffle their hair...pure bleach would not get rid of the dirt...