Drink and Drive?

Shall you keep silent as we are driven to our deaths?

You have a driving licence, yet you sit still and let yourself be driven by a drunk driver?

Does the fact that he is your husband make him any less drunk?

Make you any less likely to end up in a ditch bleeding out,

your whole family right beside you…

…but why am I being hard on just you?

You, the driver, must you really? Must you drink knowing full well that you shall be driving later?

…and if you absolutely must drink, must you drive?

You’ll insist on a car-pool(why waste fuel when we can all fit in one car…is exactly what he said), three generations of your bloodline on board and you still insist on drinking and driving.

Surely, some things can be avoided!


All of us, holding our breathe as the police flag us down,

praying they don’t look too close,

praying they don’t ask the driver to step out,

heave a sigh of relief as they ask us to proceed after a single glance at our weary faces,

they’re just doing their jobs though, aren’t they?

Saving us from ourselves.


But did we die?

No, we did not. We got home safe and sound.

But we should not have had to journey home with our hearts in our throats, to journey in fear, shushing those who try to speak up so as to not make a scene.

For what?

To prove a point?

To spare an ego?

…we gamble with a whole lineage, we gamble with our lives.


What angers me most…?

What angers me most is the profuse outpouring of love that finished off our visit that evening.


You, the driver, coming to rush everyone for fear of the time,

we are fast losing daylight,

we really should not be driving out too late,

asking everyone to start winding up their stories,

clear their drinks,

while at the same time chugging what’s left of yours then going for one more for the final toast of the evening.


How shall we speak of friendship, of love, of family, of caring for each other especially in this world of today that grows ever increasingly cold as we are each pulled in different directions by life…

How shall we toast to health, faith, peace and prosperity in the year to come…

and with that same sip of alcohol roll the die and leave our chances to fate…

Shall we live to see another day or shall we perish on these roads tonight?

Shall we watch the year age or shall it’s infancy mark our demise?

…fate, you decide!

…while we helplessly murmur ‘Hail Marys’ all the way home, asking deliverance from troubles we have brought upon ourselves.

Let your actions speak of love as well.


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