The hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with was seeing my father of almost 18 years, cry because of an addiction that wasn’t even his, but my grandfathers. That was the day my grandfather died. You see, cigarettes murdered my grandfather. Of course it was his choice to start the addictive habit, it soon became a big part of his life and ours. An addiction that ended his own life. Soon after my grandmother died, My grandfather decided he needed something more to fulfill his life.
Give him something to do and keep him busy to keep grandma off his mind. He chose an addiction that changed his life and his life style. His pack a day soon led to more. He continued to smoke even though the doctor, dad and I were totally against it. Continuing until he was smoking 4 packs per day. As I grew older, it was reverent that he continued to increase his smoking. His teeth grew yellow with stain, in addition to his fingertips. His skin began to wrinkle more than other men do his age, despite his easy living.
And his body began to wench with the smell of an old ashtray that had been thrown out, similar to the smell of his beautiful home. Nevertheless, his body was suffering on the inside as well, as the outside. He began coughing uncontrollably for lengths at a time. His respiratory system began to suffer. On repeated trips to the doctor, and against doctor’s orders, he continued to smoke. Soon he developed a heart disease. Which caused him several strokes. Not long after that, he developed the worst, lung cancer.
As a result, it led him to his death. In conclusion, I never understood why he chose to continue smoking until I was faced with the dilemma. It didn’t come to a surprise to me that my father was totally against it. I’m proud to say that I am an ex-smoker, I made a decision to quit: for my grandfather, for my father, and for my life. Through my grandfather’s addiction, it has made me a better-prepared person to face the consequences on what could have happened.