I have a black and white photo here that I got from a recent family reunion. The reunion -- after 27 years, all of us finally got together. Finally.
The picture was taken of a young lady, probably about 16 years old. She's long and thin and very pretty. If it weren't so obvious that the snapshot is terribly old, I'd have thought the pretty girl in that picture was my oldest daughter.
She seriously looks like my girl did when she was about 16. All gangly legs and arms, hair neatly styled and off the face. The figure is sitting propped up on a couch wearing pajamas and fuzzy slippers. In one hand she's got an apple and she's taking a huge bite of it.
In the other hand is a cigarette.
This, I'm told, is my mother. I can believe this is true because, again, my daughter looked just like this at age 16 (minus the cigarette).
But I don't remember my mom all that well. I was six when she was diagnosed with cancer. She stayed in the hospital for the next three and a half years, for the most part. By the time the disease was done with her, she weighed about 82 lbs and was minus a lung, part of her liver, and all of her stunning beauty.
I remember her hands. I remember some of the things we did together. But I don't really remember her face.
I do miss her though.
If you have kids, can I ask you a favor? Please don't continue to smoke. Because if something happens to you, they may live through the rest of their (so-called) childhood the way I went through mine... in foster care, never really belonging, never sure what was going to happen next, not even sure if you'd get to see your other family members again.
That's no way to grow up, and it's an even worse legacy to leave your kids than you may realize.
The photo here on my desk is said to be "black and white". But there are infinite shades of gray. To me, the whole picture looks like it was drawn in smoke.
Because that's how frail my family was since my mom got sick... flimsy as smoke.
Just Quit... you CAN do it.
