My dad was and is my hero. I loved my dad and I always wanted to be like him, simple, humble, and kung magmahal, it's always unconditional. He was a great provider. A great father. I wanted to be just like him.
NOW I DON'T!
Smoking looks cool. That's what I used to think when I was a little. This is what a grown-ups do. Get one stick, lit it and there you go, smoke puffing in and out your mouth. Cool! In fact, very cool.
At young age, seeing my dad doing the most coolest thing in the world ( so I thought) seemed brilliant. At the back of your mind you dreamed that someday. I wanted to do that as well.
Years had gone passed, this little kid became a boy. Circumstances changed but my dad's "cool" habbit didn't change. He was smoking same amount of cigarettes as far as I can remeber. It might be more. CHAMPION. This was his brand. My dad liked menthol. I don't know why, may be because this was the cheapest at that time.
All those years, I still thought, smoking is still "cool". I still got this dream that I wanted to be like dad- smoking. At the age of 13 I began doing it. I used to sneak in and look for my dad's ciggies, and steal one of them. Hiding at the back yard, away from everybody else I was puffing my first ever taste of "coolness" and I tell you what, It was really "cool". "Cool" because first it was menthol, and second, I was doing it behind everybody's back. I felt false sense of fulfillment. A false sense of achievement. The first was followed by second and countless numbers of sticks and packets of cigarettes. Half of my dinner/snack money was spent buying cigarettes. I was doing this without my mum and dad's knowledge.
My smoking habbit has been stopped when I entered college. Well, I should say regulated coz I did have some occasionally. It was only because we were not allowed to smoke. I was illegal. School's policy. It was in the handbook. Breaking it only meant one thing. Severe punishments. (if you got caught, you will atleast have to do some explaining through PUBLIC APOLOGY.)
College life is over so as the rules, the handbook and the threat of punishments. The illegal becomes legal. The hidden, can be revealed now. I can smoke without hiding at the "veranda" in late nights. I could smoke infront of my dad and mum now. And there It was, the old habbit came back in full blown. I was inhaling like a chimney.
In 2001, my dad was diagnose with tumor in his lungs. He was advised for treatment and medications. But my dad's commitment in his job and his love for smoking pushed him to refuse the doctor's sdvise. He wanted to convince himself that he wasn't ill. He was strong and fit, able to do what he wanted to do. My dad was stubborn and hard headed.
In my silence, I knew for a fact that my dad was seriously ill. He was caughing blood all the time. I caught him loads of times washing his handkerchiefs just to hide the bloods from us. He was on denial. He was probably scared too but didnt want to show that to me and to the rest of the family or maybe he was thinking the cost of his medication as well. Surely It won't be cheap, even he worked twice as hard it wont even cover the hospital charges and doctor's fees. I think that was his main concern. I must admit, If I were in his shoes I would have done the same. With 11 kids 3 of them were in college, 4 in high school, and some more in elementary, I'm sure he was thinking these kids first and foremost before himself. He made himself a sacrifice. The moment he decided that he won't be getting the treatment I knew he took that painful journey of death. But he never complained. He took them in silence. And in may 2002,on the month of flowers, my dad bid his goodbye. A beautiful soul rest in peace. My dad...a wonderful dad...died with lung cancer!
Then I thought, smoking has never been cool. It killed my dad and it's on the process of killing me. I just didn't realize it or I choose not to. I ignored that fact for a very long time.
Eight years has gone since my dad left. I still miss him. I still believed that he was the best dad ever. But now, I dont wanna be like him anymore. I don't want to die at 52. I don't want to live and die in painful silence. My son, Adrien, is growing up, I dont want him thinking smoking is "cool". I don't want him pinching one of my tabs and hiding at the back garden smoking my cigarettes. I dont want him spending 16 years of his life before he could realize that smoking is not cool at all. I don't want him to dream to be like me.
At the time this blog is written I am committed as ever to quit smoking. I started my journey 6 days ago, I know It's hard. Actually It's harder than I thought It would be. The cravings are just too much, the headaches, the temper, all of them are just terrible. My poor wife is getting all of these. My poor son is getting shouted at more often. My struggles to control my temper at work. All of these only for one reason. I DON'T WANNA BE LIKE MY DAD ANYMORE. And my dad, wherever he is now, I'm sure 100% he would be proud of me.
with the help of God's intervening hand. I will get out of this. I will stop smoking.
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