Before March 8, 2016, I hadn’t had a cigarette in years. My dad died that afternoon and that evening, as my siblings and mother assembled around the kitchen table, stunned and trying to come up with funeral plans, I joined them in the garage. I didn’t really think about…
October 11, 1990.
That date — 25 years ago today — will always be significant to me. Why?
That’s the day I quit smoking for good.
I started smoking in 1975, around the age of 14, because I thought it was cool. My dad…
