This happened a long time ago. My father and I were sitting in the living room and talking when we both began coughing, first me and then him. We knew it was the proverbial “smoker’s cough.” After catching my breath, I said, “Pa, if I quit smoking, will you quit?” A serious look came over his face, as he questioningly asked, “If I quit, you’ll quit?” I said, “Yes!” and I stood up. He stood up and shook my hand vigorously as a gesture to seal our agreement. He took his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and put the pack down hard on the coffee table. I responded by doing the same thing with my pack of cigarettes.

I knew I had to remain true to my word or he would start smoking again. I was sure that, if I did, he would keep his word and quit. It would be a very tough challenge for both of us, but my Pa was strong minded enough to do it, and I viewed it as my chance to show how much I loved him. I was not going to fail; I was glad that I had brought it up.

I remember one time waking up from a deep sleep, where I was actually smelling cigarette smoke. In my dream I was smoking and it was so real that I screamed out loud, “What have I done? How could I do this?” It took some time for me to realize that I was in bed, and I eventually calmed down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was then that I realized how powerful this addiction was, and I became more determined than ever to beat it.

At work there were times when I reached into my left-side shirt pocket, which was empty, and laughingly thought that I had to tell my brain that I had given up that habit.

As the weeks turned into months we both knew that we were winning this battle; we beat the urge to ever smoke again, and even hated the smell of it. At that point, I spoke to people in our building about quitting. Our neighbor Alice always had a cigarette in the morning as she was leaving for work, and it smelled up the entire hallway. I gently began talking to her about how I quit, and she said that she had been thinking about quitting as well, but now would speak to her mother who was also a smoker to see if they could work out a deal just as my father and I had done.

This became a mission in my life, speaking to people about giving up cigarettes. I was successful at times. I was also told off and told to “peddle [my] papers somewhere else!” I got some sour looks along with insults from people, but I continued in my quest, becoming more discriminate regarding who I approached. Most people knew that I was caring and sincere in my comments to them, and took those comments as I intended, without offense.

Once, while I was waiting in the lobby of my wife’s workplace to take her out to lunch, I noticed this man coming into the building who was smoking. I nodded, greeting him, because we had seen each other many times in the past. Our exchange led to my talking about smoking and how my father and I had quit. I could see that he was touched by my explanation of how we did it. He looked at me and said, “I’m glad I met you today. I’m done with these!” promptly pushing the lit cigarette into a sand pot. He then took out his cardboard pack of Marlboro cigarettes and walked over to the trash can and threw it in, while looking directly at me and smiling.

I watched him as he walked through the doors to the elevators going up to his office. I couldn’t help wondering, because his reaction had been so quick, “Was he sincere? Was he pacifying me? Did he really throw his cigarettes away? Or was it just an empty pack in the trash can?” I reluctantly walked over and took that red and white Marlboro box out of the trash container and flipped it open. Inside was an almost-full pack of cigarettes! A complete feeling of blessings came over me as I realized the mitzvah in what I had done.

That same week I met Alice while walking in the street. She ran over to tell me that she quit smoking a few days after our talk. I shook her hand and gave her a hug, but didn’t ask about her mother. I kind of knew then that you can’t win them all.

My father never smoked again, and I believe that prolonged his life. I have not smoked to this very day, nor do I even think about it, other than to know that quitting smoking was one of the best things I have ever accomplished.

By David S. Weinstein