Why I Quit Smoking By Lane Baldwin

"I have quit...I will stay quit."

Finally, I knew it was almost done. Sensing that he was ready to make the crossing, I read to him a poem I'd written for a Birthday card a few years earlier. He had cried when he read it back then. I cried as I read it now...

The Lighthouse
© 1998, Lane Baldwin

The wind whispers softly in the sails,
telling of adventures to come
on this open sea of life.

The water answers in kind as it crawls
along the sides of the ship I sail
into unknown territory.

Ahead lies the great unknown.
the horizon melting into the starlit sky -
foreboding...fearsome.

The shore is almost gone - the last vestige of security
creeping slowly into the waters,
soon to disappear forever.

Yet still, the light shines bravely,
urging me on...
the fire never dies...

Somehow, he managed to rise one last time through the morphine haze. His hand squeezed mine with what little energy he could muster. His eyes opened ever so slightly and, looking upon me one final time, he smiled. Inhaling his last breath, he closed his eyes...

I closed my eyes and held his hand. I sang my song softly...doing what little I could to help him on his way. When I had finished my brief ceremony (which, for now, will remain private) the four of us that remained sang his favorite hymn, Amazing Grace. And we remembered one of his favorite verses in his book of faith...

For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course. I have kept the faith.

We had to wait to bury Dad; it takes some time to arrange a funeral at Arlington National Cemetery; the waiting list is at least a week long. The service was very dignified, the Color Guard the finest they had. The 21 gun salute could have hurt my heart no more if they had shot me directly. The bugle cried into the overcast as we wept silently. Spirit granted the fly-by that the Army could not arrange...a flock of geese flew directly over his coffin as the bugler played...calling to him...showing the way home.

After all was said and done, and everyone was returning to their cars, I stood one last time with my father. With one hand on his coffin, I renewed the vows I had made to him. On Valentine's Day, 2000, I promised him that I would quit smoking before my Birthday. Wrenching my heart from my chest and leaving it there on the casket, I finally turned away. Happy Anniversary.

As I write this, my father's last picture sits next to me. Although his eyes still shine with the humor, dignity and decency of a time gone-by, his skin is pale and translucent. There is no more hair on his scalp. He weighs about half of what he did in his prime. I can't look at this picture without crying. I could barely type this story for you.

So...why did I quit smoking? Because I'll be damned if I'll put my wife, my daughter, my family and friends through what I've gone through.

I have quit.

               I will stay quit.

                              I will NEVER smoke another cigarette in my life.

                                             I hope this helps you.

Lane Baldwin is a musician and writer who focuses on spirituality and positive living. He has placed this essay here in the hopes that it will help you quit smoking and lead a happier, healthier life.

Quitting Smoking Isn't Tough - Lane Baldwin

To learn more about Lane:

His music: Lane on Bass
His writing: A Life with Spirit