A Very Proud Daddy's Girl
I am a total Daddy's Girl, which I don't think comes as a surprise to anyone on Livejournal. I even have a LJ tag that says "daddy's girl". My father is a wonderful man, who goes out of his way to make things better for his family and especially children. Though he has his faults and can get angry, his wisdom, stories, humor and everything he does for me more than makes up for all of it.
And for all of these things, I have always loved him and been thankful and greatful to be his daughter. But I have never been prouder of him than I am right now.
My father, for the first time ever, is quitting smoking.
He's gone over five days without a cigarette as of now. I didn't even realize he was quitting until this past weekend at my brother's birthday party. And today, he put as his facebook status that it's been 134 hours since he's had a cigarette (apparently only using gum to help). And I'm so happy and proud of him, I can't even clearly put it into words.
My father has always smoked. My mother did too, all throughout her pregnancy with me, while I was a baby, and up until she was pregnant with my sister when the hospital wouldn't let her smoke while she was there. So she was forced to quit, and has continuously said that it was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do, and to this day still gets cravings for it.
But my dad has always smoked. He does his best not to do it around all of us (especially as we got older). He does sometimes open the car window while driving and lights up, but usually doesn't do it unless he is out of the building (even when we accidentally sit in the smoking section of a restaurant). He goes on the deck when he's at home.
My memory is very blotchy of when I was little, before 3rd grade, but one of my clearest memories involve him. When I was in first grade we had a presentation in class. It was about how you should "just say no" if someone offered you a cigarette, because smoking could kill you. I knew at that age that my father smoked, and was crying and nearly having a panic attack on the bus ride home because I thought that he would be dead by the time I got to my house. Since then, I've always gotten a pang of worry whenever there is a commercial on TV (especially nowadays) about why people should quit smoking. And with the blunt and graphic ones nowadays, that show all the horrible things that can happen to you (the tubes in the throats, the messed up fingers, and the "if you're not planning to quit smoking, what are you planning?" which then lists all the horrible possible diseases that can come from smoking), it's a forced reminder and fear that I could lose my dad. And I hate that thought.
I've never been angry at him for it though, because for all I never saw him try to quit (though my mother's told me that he did try when I was really little, but it didn't work and the withdrawal was really bad for him), he's never taken smoking as a trivial thing. When my sister and I were kids, and fooled around playing that we were evil rich ladies by using french fries to prentend to smoke (a la Cruella de Vil), my dad got angry and yelled at us. And then went into a serious lecture that smoking is one of the stupidest things a person could do and that we should never ever smoke. Not even as pretend, because it's not okay. It's bad, and stupid. So I've always known it is one of the things he's most ashamed of, and have never taken lightly how hard it must be to seriously quit.
So now, to know he's really trying, and has gone five days already without a smoke, I'm incredibly happy and proud. He's not even using typical nicotine alternatives, (he is using gum, but regular not nicorette or anything--because he doesn't want to "change addictions") he's really doing it on his own willpower.
And I've never been prouder than I am right now to be his daughter.