I cried tonight. In front of my husband. And it's all due to something that he does.
Every. Single. Day.
He smokes. A lot. And he has smoked, a pack and a half a day, since he was a teenager. He is now 45. So he's been smoking for 30 years. I've asked him many times over the years to quit. A couple of times he has quit - once he quit for 6 months (to collect on a BET, believe it or not), then started right back. (I could've killed him.)
But tonight, it all came to a head. I went out on our back deck (where he does his smoking... he never smokes in the house...) and sat down to chat with him and before I knew it, it ALL came out... how afraid I was that he was going to either drop dead of a heart attack, or die a slow, horrible death from emphysema or lung cancer.
I became very emotional about it, which totally caught him off guard, because I'm pretty much the "engine" of the family. And then I told him, if he did die, he would wind up breaking THREE hearts. Mine, and both of our children's, because they idolize him.
The only reason I bring this up here (on my normally light-hearted, sunny little blog) is to ask you, my blogging friends, if you have had a loved one who has quit smoking.... what was their 'watershed moment'.... what was their 'wake-up call'? How did they do it? How did you encourage them? What the hell WORKED to get them to quit???
I want he and I to grow old together. I want our grandkids to know HIM, and not just ME.
I don't want to be a widow, and I sure as hell don't want our kids to lose him.