It is the fist pull, the light of the lighter, the draw on the cigarette, the sweet feeling of that addiction on my tongue. It has been my constant companion for over 40 years now.
40 years, good god, until I typed that it did not seem real.
I started at the age of 14, on the TV were ads that said "Doctors preferred Chesterfields" Beautiful women singing, "You've Come a Long way Baby" for Virginia Slims.
I sneaked the first ciggy at 9 from my mother's pack, chocked half to death, then shared one with my cousin Pat. Both of us smoked from that point on.
I think Pat may have quit before he turned 40, but died shortly after that from prostate cancer. Pat and I were great friends when we were young, not so great as adults. Grew apart, over a silly argument. I think if left alone he and I would have patched it up, but the whole family got involved, and that muddied the waters quite a bit, we were never really friends again.
But I had my constant friend my blue haze, that would see me through the next 50 years of life. It has been here for everything, children, Grandchildren, husbands, career, in sickness and in health. I lit up.
And I lit up and up and up. Until one day at the age of 48 a Doctor looked at me and said "You Have five years to live" Interstitial lung disease, who ever heard of that??? I certainly had not, what was it, how did I get it, what was the treatments, cures, possibilities, why only 5 years???
Like that Tim McGraw Song, I spent most of the next days looking at the xrays and talking about Sweet time. I went to every specialist I could find, not one would change the diagnosis. Went through test and biopsies, and took massive amounts of steroids. And it did nothing, nothing improved, nothing was going to improve.
So I decided to live my life, my way until I could not do it anymore. Party until I drop, smoke, drink, have a great time. Until,,,,,
I am at the anymore. I can no longer walk across a room, no longer dress myself, no longer go shopping alone, or stay alone for too long. I am very very sick now.
I just lit the last cigarette, savoring the taste, the smell, the feel of this last addiction stick. The sweet and savory flavor of the Last Marlboro. I will miss them, my old friends, miss the blue haze surrounding me, engulfing me, encapsulating me in an addiction that has dominated my life.
I a, alone now, the cigarette gone, the smoke dissipating, the flavor receding from my tongue, alone
Alone, with just my addiction and my fear.