my son gave me a wonderful gift
for my birthday. he told me he’d quit
smoking.
when i’d learned
his sister smoked i didn’t
handle it
well in fact i was
scary if not verbally abusive.
by the time
i learned my son smoked i realized
i couldn’t change it.
she stopped
on her own because she
realized it was disgusting.
(and maybe because
of me)
he stopped
for several
reasons, but his partner
told me #1 was because
i hated it.
i know I handled it better
with him
than her and i detected
that resentment
when she
and i texted
about
his quitting late
last night.
Oh the end of this one hurts my heart and makes me remember to just try my best with my three. It’s hard.
At least they’ve stopped. My elder sister, one heart attack later, still smokes. And tells herself and others lies about when she started (but I remember). It’s not something I can ever discuss with her. Nor could my parents. It’s very hard to know what might help and what might not – and every smoker is different too.
I hope it takes with them. My sister has smoked for at least 40 years. She’s cut back, but never quit.
I am sure Clare will never go back again, but Andrew has only just quit. I hope he’s stopped for good, but I can’t know for certain.
I love the title – “his gift to me was the absence”…immediately it caught me, and I thought, “That’s a strange gift, a negation.” Such a great Mother-Daughter story here, even though the poem pretends to be about your son. Like the rest, hope not smoking sticks for both of them!
I read this days ago, and replied in my head, but my reply never made it to the screen. It was insightful and articulate (I assume).