Once upon a time

The whole reason for this post is because I saw a recent picture of my mother. She's 55 years old has been a smoker for about 40 years.
I remember when I was little I used to think she was GLAMOROUS because she smoked. I mean, the ladies on Dynasty did it. I remember asking her to buy me those awful candy cigarettes from the gas station so I could copy her in all her glamour. And she did, sometimes 2 "packs" at a time.
She would often run around in a tizzy then sigh loudly and exclaim, "I NEED a cigarette!" She would sit in her chair, one leg tucked under her while the dangling one in constant motion, she'd reach over and grab her soft leather case, snag that loooong Virginia Slim 120 out and snap the case shut. Funny, I can still hear that little click. Her lighter was always MIA and she'd have me run and go find it QUICK. She'd light it up, take in that first thirsty inhale and close her eyes. Bliss. So I thought.

As I got older I hated her for smoking. I hated that she would barely crack the window in the car while she was smoking and driving me to school. I tried everything I could to get her to quit...hide her packs, her lighters, accidentally sit on her cigarette case crushing them (whoopin' for that one). I hated that my clothes and hair smelled like well, Her. I hated that money went to a fresh carton instead of ordering from my school fundraiser. I hated when she tried to kiss my cheek with that awful ashtray breath thisclose to my nose. I knew that I would never smoke. And I haven't. Not even once.

My mother and I don't speak now. No, it's not because she smokes. Our reasons run deeper than that. The picture was found while Facebook creeping. (What? Don't act like you haven't done it) She looked many many years older than her actual age. She looked very thin, very sunken, very dull. Very NOT Glamorous. She has had Emphysema for about 6 years now and is on full time Oxygen. I would ask her if it's been worth it, all these years of smoking, but I already know her answer.