Something my Grandpa Cairns said a few times.

Thomas G Cairns, my Grandpa Cairns, Dad’s dad, with Grandma (Geneva Cairns, née Bauer), and his grandkids: Dan Young (held by Grandpa), then L-R, Tom Tom, Carolee, Dee Dee, Linda, me, and Tom.

My Grandpa Cairns said this enough to make an impression on me: “Quitting smoking was the hardest thing I ever did.” He would always look down, at nothing, as if in a reverie.

He told this short story:

Many years ago, he was a Sunday school teacher. (I believe this was at Bethel Baptist Church when it was on 737 E 26th Street on Erie’s east side.)

He was having a cigarette in the parking lot after church. As some of his Sunday school students were leaving after the morning service, he hid his cigarette behind his back.

He told himself that if it wasn’t right for them to see him smoking, he shouldn’t be smoking, so he quit.

But it wasn’t easy. He said he bought a lot of packs, would smoke one and rip up the rest, angry at himself each time, until he was able to stop entirely. Grandma concurred each time he told the story, said Grandpa really struggled with it.

I quit too and I agree with him. It was the hardest thing I ever did.

And I still miss it, and if I could do it and not get sick or yelled at, I would.

I used to drink, too, like a fish, and I enjoyed that even more.

Life is smoke-free now and punctuated with a little Sierra Nevada now and then.

I had a dream last night that I was at a summer camp with friends and family and drinking on the sly from my own rather large stash.

I sure was having a good time.

[2014-03-06]

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