Once Upon a Time in the West: a new years resolution kept

Many years ago I was a smoker.  My parents smoked, my brothers and sister grew up to smoke, and eventually, so did I.

I remember smoking my first cigarette.  It was on my eighteenth birthday and it was a day of firsts for me…

I ditched school, and while my parents and siblings were out of the house I locked myself in the bathroom where I stood in front of the mirror and proceeded to drink a beer and smoke a cigarette.  I remember thinking all my friends who were brave enough to defy their parents looked pretty cool.  Not me.  I stood there looking at my reflection I thought,

“You look like a jackass.” and  “This is not cool.”

I never touched a drink or a cigarette again until I went into the Navy, where once again I was surrounded by those who did.  It started out as smoking only one or two cigarettes when I went to  dance clubs with friends, but this quickly and easily became an everyday habit.  A habit I would continue, and that would escalate over the years.

Smoking, I would soon find out, was no less addicting than we are told drugs or alcohol are, and very hard to quit.  Perhaps no one else has told you this, but I believe it is difficult to quit because it’s socially acceptable.  You can go to any store or gas station to purchase them, and simply put:   It is a habit that is nearly impossible to quit.   From personal experience I can tell you that quitting nicotine will drive you to the jitters and give you fits of temper that only a saint (or my husband) could survive!

Pack_of_camel

Many years later, I was smoking three packs a day, Camels, no filter, and didn’t realize how many I actually smoked until my father got cancer.

Now I had previously tried to quit, at least four or five times, and never succeeded until Dad died.  No gory details folks, just know that it gave me the resolve to finally commit to that old New Years Resolution to quit for good!

Here is how I succeeded.

First, I got a small, spiral bound pocket notebook.

small sprial bound notebook

In this notebook I made a hash mark for each cigarette I smoked in a day.   Let me tell ya, I had not a clue that I was up to three packs a day!  This and my father’s passing were a real wake up call!

I sat there and tried to imagine how I could successfully quit such a deeply entrenched habit.   I finally reasoned that  I hadn’t started out smoking all three packs in a day, and therefore I wouldn’t expect myself to just give them all up in one day.Hash marks

Each day I kept track in my little pocket notebook with hash marks, and each day I smoked one less cigarette.  It took a long time,  but by cutting out just one a day it didn’t seem to hurt at all!  Well, until about the halfway mark.  Then I found moments in the day when I realized I needed to pace myself or run out before bedtime.  (I know, can you believe it?)

So during these times of no cigarettes I would send up a quick prayer.

“God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!”

The less I smoked in a day the more I repeated my prayer, and it became my mantra to get me through the day,

“God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!  God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!  God, just get me through this moment, Thank you! God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!   God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!  God, please just get me through this moment!”

This went on until one evening when I was sitting on the couch watching TV with Bob, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open for the stress.  I was down to seven cigarettes a day and still had three to go, but all I really wanted to do was go to bed and sleep.  I turned to Bob and said,

“I have three cigarettes left to go, and I’m ready to just quit now.  Would you do me a favor?  Would you take all the ashtrays out of the house and put them into the garage, and would you please help me out by smoking outside from now on?”

Now the old me would not have been so gracious, but he said, “YES!”  As I lay in bed I heard him go from room to room and take all the ashtrays away.  What a sweetheart!  He spent the next year smoking in the garage or on the patio until he made the decision to quit, and  I was so proud of him too!

I think it was at least a year before I realized I was cured.  I was sitting on the couch absently reaching for something on the coffee table when it hit me, and I thought,

“OH, Yeah!  I don’t do that anymore!”

~*~

If you smoke here are some things to consider…

What’s in that cigarette?

Some Kills

Some Kills (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

NOTE:  I am sorry that the wording is lacking in this graphic, but it still makes a point.

Smoking-Kids-Glamour-Shots_4

Smoking doesn’t make you look grown-up.

Not Glamorous

Smoking doesn’t make you look sexy.  In fact, it ages you beyond your years!

So my point in telling you all this isn’t to shame anyone who smokes, nor to tell you that you should quit.  I am simply relating to you my personal experience and sharing what worked for me.

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If you have decided that one of your resolutions for 2013 is to finally quit, then I wish you every success in your decision!

~*~

This post was inspired by the Daily Prompt: Resolved.  Wherein they asked this question, “Have you ever made a New Year’s Resolution that you kept?

Sunday Shorts (OK, I know it’s late!)

The Value of Family

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When Christine had shown up from Florida, I knew I wanted to take her everywhere and show her all the things that made SoCal special to me.  The Claremont Colleges having been my old stomping grounds in high school were on the list for sure.  Where else could you get that feeling of being back east in California?  Then there were the natural elements that made the area so wonderful.  The mountains that surrounded the valley I had grown up in, and just a couple of hours to the north or the east would bring you into the desert lands where the silence could swallow you up.   However, on that day it was the beach that was my priority.

Problem!  Mom was making me take my younger brother and sister with us.  I resented her for making me take them.  After all, Christine had come to see me and the sights, not help babysit my two youngest siblings!  Angrily, I loaded them both into the back of the station wagon with their things, and pulled out of the driveway.  About half the way there Christine looked over at me and noticing I was still pouting, she said, “It’s OK, they aren’t misbehaving and I really don’t mind.”

On hearing her say that my attitude brightened and I suddenly felt we would have a great day.

Now I had always found it odd that it could be sunny and hot in our inland valley and yet a drive to the beach could find you ten degrees cooler and facing a cloudy and overcast day.  Such was the case this day and I was disappointed.  Well, there was still the cave to be seen, and later in the after noon found us scrambling over the rocks to investigate!

As we rounded the last rocky outcropping I noticed that the little bay was a bit too small.  I realized that the tide was coming in and we needed to take a peek at the cave and then get out of there before it was too late.

I told Christine what was going on, and then yelled to the kids to stay close.  We walked into the cave, gave the requisite shouts to hear our echos, and then came out to go back.

We had only been there what seemed a few minutes and already the waves were crashing against the lower rocks.  Scrambling up the lower formations we were being sprayed with the fanning water as each wave broke.  We were screaming with each wave, and then laughing because the water was so cold.  We had become drenched!

Suddenly, a very big wave rolled in and instead of breaking like all the others it just continued to roll right over our pathway.  There was now about two feet of fast, churning water hitting our shins.  I froze.

Quickly scanning the outcropping for my brother and sister, I saw Alison and Christine bolt for the cliff face and grab on like crabs in their effort to not be washed away.  Clinging there their faces looked so pale against the wet and darkened rock.  The wave broke against them, and then began to retreat.  The force of the retreating water was causing me to me lose my footing.   When I looked back I was panicked to see Aaron being swept over the edge of the rocks and out to sea.

It is amazing what detail your mind can store in a situation where you face so much trauma.  I was once told by a doctor that the adrenaline in such situations will cause your brain to go into overdrive, and instead of getting just the general information from the situation, your brain records every single millisecond of detail and it plays in your mind like slow motion…

Aaron was floating over the rocks, his face white, looking terrified.  There was no screaming of “HELP!” like in the movies, it was just terror and scrabbling to find something to hold on to.  Breaking from my frozen state I tried to run to him and catch him if I could, but the four feet between us might just as well have been forty.  The ocean had garnered a prize that day and was not going to let it go!  I lunged for him but missed my grasp.  In my mind I was hearing myself explain to my parents how I had allowed my baby brother to be killed that day on the cliffs, and I knew they would never forgive me.  Never.

I see my brother dig his fingers into the holes on the rocks edge, the water is dragging his legs and body straight out behind him and then seems to let him go.  Straining, he pulls his body back to the rocks.  I see the muscles and tendons in high relief along his arms, his legs and feet are pistoning against the razor edges of the rock bluff, and then, he is free.   Laying there, his chest heaving, he begins to cry.

By this time Alison, and Christina are at my side.  We help Aaron up and quickly get off the rocks.  Safely on the sand we carefully check Aaron to assess the damage.  He has a few scratches on his arms and legs, his shorts are shredded and so is the end of his left big toe!  (I will spare you the details, but just know it was horrific looking!)  We took him to the first aid station where they patched him up, and then we left.  We’d had enough of the beach for one day.

That was forty years ago, and every time I remember that day, my selfishness shames me.   Remembering the terror on those rocks, when I thought we’d never come back from that one last wave,  is when I realized how much my brother and sister meant to me, and that it could have all ended so differently.

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This is not my picture, but it is where the above events took place all those years ago.crystal_cove

Professor Tom Morris, who teaches Environmental Biology at Fullerton College, posts this photograph with the admonishment to “Go at low tide.”

Hm…  YA THINK?

NOTE:  Please kindly click the photograph to link back to its source and view the many other amazing photos Professor Morris has posted to his website.  Thank you!

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From The Daily Post  who gave us this line to use in our writing today:

“I thought we’d never come back from that one.”

Wednesday’s Words: the littlest virtuoso

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#69 

The prompt ~ Bah Humbug!

100wcgu-7

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The Littlest Virtuoso

From the moment the little bug had finished his metamorphosis, he had loved to hum.  In his short time on earth he had learned to hum the many different melodies he had been exposed to.  Such musical masterpieces as Handel’s Messiah, or Debussy’s Clair de lune, were happily hummed in perfect pitch.

One day when visiting a lovely nearby garden, he landed on a fragrant rose.  Becoming drunk off its lovely fragrance he began to hum loudly and most contentedly.

The gardener happened by and noticing him there, reached out to squish him.

“Bah, you Humbug!” He muttered with satisfaction.

~*~

Some extras for your pleasure…

Handel’s Messiah history

Handel’s Messiah the music…

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Debussy a bit of history and other musical facts!   ~Do you imagine I love his music?   I Do!

Debussy’s Clair de lune the music

Do you think you know this piece?  Well of course you do!

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Second helpings today!

100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – Week#68

100wcgu-7

In my effort to catch up with this challenge I find I will need to post a second helping today. 

The prompt is:

….they worked when I put them away….

The rules are to write using the prompt plus 100 words for a total of 107.

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She loved the twinkle of Christmas lights.  Festooned off trees and shrubs, hung on the eaves, and dripping off the tree, the twinkle of each bulb gave her joy.  Then, at the end of the season the strings were inspected, bulbs polished, then carefully wound, and tucked safely away where they’d keep till next season.

The following Christmas, as was her habit, she plugged in each string to check for spent bulbs and proper working order. One by one she plugged them in and found none working!  Frustrated she thought,

“They worked when I put them away!”

In a nearby corner a mouse smiled at his handiwork.

~*~

Tomorrow we’ll be back on the Farmlet for a bit of gardening.