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      My parents both smoked when I was young. Dad had said that he started smoking when he was in the Marines. That was back when the tobacco companies gave free cigarettes to the people in the armed services because that was such a magnanimous thing to do and oh yeah, it would get them addicted so they would buy cigarettes after they got out of the service! I don't remember Dad saying the cigarettes he had in the Marines were free, but I do recall him saying that the cigarettes were his only source of comfort while in the Marines.

      He was stationed at Camp LeJeune the entire two years “I enlisted to keep the peace, and I did!” These were the years between World War II where Dad's older brothers Harvey, Basil, and Bernie fought, and the Korean War where Dad's two younger brothers Hillery and Dennis fought. And I would hazard to presume that when Dad got out of the Marines, he was addicted to nicotine.

     Mom said she did not start smoking until after Clark was born – sometimes she said it was after Eric was born. But someone had told her smoking would help her lose the weight she gained from pregnancy – and it did indeed work. And then Mom quit while pregnant with Eric but resumed again once he was born and there was weight to lose again.

       I remember when the first reports came out, stating that cigarette smoking causes cancer – there had been talk for a while that this was probably so. Dad had said he would quit if and when it became official.

       And when it did in 1965, Mom said she would quit with him.

       Dad stopped smoking. But Mom did not. It was tough for Dad to do. Too tough for Mom at that point in time. Dad gained a few pounds. Not too many years after that, Dad started smoking cigars. Cigars had not been found to cause cancer.....yet. He smoked a lot of them. Mom was always wanting him to stop. It was probably the mid seventies when Dad finally quit cigars.

       We kids were of course not allowed to lecture our parents – but over time, we could express our concern over Mom's cigarettes and Dad's cigars. They were not going to listen to us – we did not realize at the time that one has to want to quit and no amount of sermons will make that happen any sooner.

        I do know that there was a certain point in time when I stopped washing ash trays. The butts and ashes would pile high in the ash trays and I would leave them on the end tables of the living room and family room. After a while Mom or Dad would empty and clean an ashtray if it had piled up especially high or the cigar butts were too aromatic. They thought nothing of it – just cleaned the ashtrays themselves.

      One year I took an artsy picture of a cigar butt leaning on one of the ashtrays – and I framed it and gave it to Dad for Christmas. The folks loved it! Dad even took the picture to Florida with him when they moved in 1980, and he had the picture in his office for the next 10 years!

       Mom finally gave up smoking in 1982 – after she woke up one morning coughing so bad – and it was tough, but she did it. For a few years after that Mom said she still had the desire to smoke – but the yen faded eventually and then she could not stand the sight or smell of cigarettes.

      So Dad smoked cigarettes for about 20 years and then quit and lived for another 25 years; Mom smoked for about 25 years and quit and lived for 30 more years. They both had cancer.

      The smell of cigarette smoke really bothers some people. The few bars around here that still allow smoking can sometimes be way too concentrated in smoke. But for the most part, I kind of like the smell of cigarette smoke – I feel a sense of calm when I smell it, and of course I'm thinking that this is because the cigarette smoke takes me back to my childhood and the cigarette smoke meant Mom and Dad were nearby.

      And I feel safe.

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