Here's a photo and an email message from my mother, who died of lung cancer 7 years ago, after a lifetime of smoking. She's wearing the hat because her hair had started falling out, due to the chemo. Interesting to hear, in her own words, when she gave up smoking, how an addiction can become a love-hate relationship: "It's hard to explain in a brief email, but my body was really telling me that smoking was hurting me. But I've learned that smoking, for me at least, was more important than any one person in my life. It was like an infant in my care; I had to think about it all the time, tend to its needs constantly, be sure there was enough to feed it. With a good friend, or spouse or child, I think of things to tell them or show them or do for them--but not ALL the time! With smoking it is ALL THE TIME, except for showers and sleeping. So, now I am bereft."
