July 10, 201511 yr My parents divorced when I was young. The last time I saw my father I was thirteen. Tried finding him on occasion but his was a common name and with the intervening time and distance I wasn't really certain what we could say to each other. I started smoking at the age of nineteen. At the age of fifty I found my father's obituary online. I watched the tribute video of him that was posted on youtube. I discovered that he had remarried and had a new family. Scattered amongst the photos was a picture of me. My father smoked and the final pictures of him showed what appeared to be symptoms of advanced COPD. The weight loss, the wheelchair, the supplemental oxygen. I remembered a long ago conversation I had with him about cigarettes and smoking. He said, "I would prefer you never start smoking." The video with it's cascade of pictures ended. I did not cry for there was no grief. Days and weeks went by and I felt...dissatisfied. My father was dead and there was no meaning to the event. I did not miss him and this bothered me. A day came when I set aside smoking. When I craved a cigarette my thoughts would turn to him. Perhaps the withdrawal pains became a substitute for the loss I never felt for my father. He died, but in his death I was spared from following in his footsteps. His death did have meaning and I still, occasionally, think of him.
July 10, 201511 yr Welcome. Congrats on over a year of smobriety. When we give up the smokes, we invite the full experience. Grief or joy, it sometimes feels good to feel something at last.
July 11, 201511 yr Welcome Serius and thank you for sharing some of your quit story. I am so glad you have quit smoking and congratulations on your one year
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