First, my stepson, David, turns the big two-oh. That's right, the youngster of the family is no longer a teenager. And no one is more surprised than me. With two older brothers who seemed to virtually zoom through their teenage and high school years, David on the other hand, seemed to me, comparatively speaking, to stay a kid almost forever. I used to joke that he'd been a sophmore for "almost three years" or that he was, say, thirteen STILL. In fact, I regularly referred to him as the Amazing Slowest Growing Kid in the Universe.
Well, the joke's on me today, isn't it? Our little David has finished his freshman year of college, and this week is moving into his first swinging bachelor pad with two buddies in his college town. After only one year on campus, the Slowest Growing Kid in the Universe cannot be bothered to move home between semesters.
Happy birthday, kiddo! You can stop now. Twenty is plenty old enough, I take it all back.
Nextly, today is also the birthday of my cousin, Diana. Since she is the same age as me, older only by a scant three months, I'll be keeping the number to myself. The daughter of my father's brother, Diana was my major running buddy and co-hort in crime during holidays and long hot summers on the southern Illinois prairie where our Grandmother lived (and still lives). Together we secretly climbed the incredibly high TV antennae tower mounted on the top of Grandma's house, ventured as far as we dared into deep dark fields of tall corn, and endlessly doctored our baby dolls, Wendy and Sarah.
Happy birthday, Diana. I hope I see you this summer.
And then there's me. Today is significant for me because six years ago today, I finally, once and for all, shook the demon nicotine off my back. Since I read at the time that it helps to quit on a day that is personally significant, I picked this day, the birthday of both David and Diana, for the first day of my re-birth as a smoke-free person. So far I have:
-Enjoyed 2,191 smoke free days wherein I was not Mr. Marlboro's bitch.
-NOT smoked the 65,730 cigarettes I normally would have.
-Saved the $8,216.00 that I would have spent buying said cigarettes.
-And, finally, and most importantly, saved 7 months, 1 week and 6 days of my very own life.
It hasn't always been easy, but it has truly been worth it. If you are a smoker reading this and you think you can't quit? Think again. I was the biggest ciggie-butt junkie on earth. Seriously. I was that person who wouldn't even ride in a smoke-free CAR. No, thanks, I'd rather walk.
So, set a date, screw up your courage, and slap on a patch. You can do it.
Lastly, this post is dedicated to Dr. Frank Etscorn, a graduate of Western Kentucky University, just up the road in Bowling Green, Kentucky. A behavioral psychologist, Dr. Etscorn is a professor at the University of New Mexico and is also the inventor of the nicotine patch, without which, I would seriously be puffing away until drawing my last breath. Which I'm afraid would have been sooner rather than later. Dr. Etscorn was inspired to begin his research by his wife, a smoker so addicted that she would pause her Jane Fonda workout video to have a smoke in the middle of her workout (boy, can I relate).
So, thanks Dr. Etscorn. You saved my life.
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