For the First Time in My Life

I hate smoking. I hate the way it looks and especially the way it smells.

When we first moved into our current house back in February we spent a lot of time out in the back yard since the weather was so nice. I love our back yard. We have 4 huge trees that shade the whole thing, and the kids love to run (and in Mollie's case crawl) up and down the length of the sidewalk. One day while we were playing back there, I noticed it. Cigarette smoke. It was very strong. I had discovered that our next door neighbor was a smoker.

Over the next few weeks I noticed it more and more. Our next door neighbor was a HEAVY smoker.

It wasn't until a few weeks later when I met her. Her name was Joan. She was a nice lady in her early 60's. As time passed, Devin and I would see her occasionally in the front yard. I began to bring her cookies whenever I would make a batch, and she brought Sam and Mollie books when she took a trip to Barnes and Noble.

I found out that she was a widow. She raised 2 kids and loved to talk about them. She told me stories over and over about her crazy little boy, since I am raising one of my own. She said she loved to hear Sam and Mollie playing outside. She told me I was doing a good job raising them. A mom needs to hear that sometimes.


Tonight Joan passed away. For the first time in my life, I think am going to miss the smell of cigarette smoke.