The end of smoking?

I just smoked my last cigarette.  The amount of times I have said this is too numerous to count.  I've quit a few times with 6-8 months success and then I made a choice to go back to it.  After you haven't smoked in months there is nothing enjoyable about that first drag, but I'm a fighter, I push through and after about the third or fourth cigarette it doesn't taste so bad.  The last time I quit, it was because I told a friend I had quit and for some reason that was the motivation needed not to go and buy a pack.  Obviously,  I started back up, but to be truthful our relationship had drifted apart and I knew there would be no daily conversation of whether I had started back up.  So with that in mind, I thought this blog might help deter me, the thought of having to say I failed might give the motivation needed.
I should explain, for a smoker there are no threats or scary accounts that anyone can give that will make them quit.  4 1/2 years ago I watched my mom, who was 53yrs old die of lung cancer.  When I say watched I mean for 6 weeks I went back to Pennsylvania to help her while she went through chemo and radiation and then flew back to Utah to find out that the following day she had a seizure, because the cancer had spread to her brain.  I received a phone call from my sister, who was crying and wanting me to make the decision on whether, if necessary, "do we pull the plug".   See the seizure caused my mother to go into a coma and the outlook was not good, the doctor told my sister we had to make a decision.  This call was probably the worst thing I ever had to deal with, and trust me I've had to deal with a lot in my life.  I did make the call,  we would not do any extraordinary measures and prayed that this wasn't going to be the end.  My mom recovered and went home.  I didn't go back immediately, she had friends and my sister to help look after her, but eventually the call came.  I had known from our daily conversations, that my mom could no longer walk (it had spread to her spinal column) and was confused about daily events and honestly, you couldn't talk long because the coughing was non-stop.  My mom, always had a positive outlook, so she started radiation on her brain.  This all started in April, in May was the chemo and radiation, in June she had the seizure and for the month of July was the brain radiation.  The last week in July I got the call from my sister, telling me I needed to come home, my mom was back in the hospital.  When I got to the hospital, well lets just say that was hard, my mom was always excited for me to come home, I can't really explain it, just know she acted like it was the best thing ever, but not this time, she turned her head and said Hi Sher.  I knew than that she wasn't going to be in my life much longer.  We chose to take her home and after about four days had everything set up to do it.  She had stopped eating but was in good spirits overall, in fact while she had prepared and was preparing in case she died, she wanted a remodeling company to come about the bathroom, at which point she told the guy she would need a hand bar in there.  Now, we have brought her home to die, and she is asking for a hand bar in the shower (this puts a smile on my face), when hospice came, she would ask them about physical therapy for her legs, she never gave up, her body did.  Three days later she would pass away.  I sat there and watched her take her last breath, after that last breath I held a basin under her mouth for what seemed like a never ending amount of blood, when her body was expelling everything (because that is what happens when someone dies).  This sight was so horrific, that her friend, who was also a nurse took the basin away from me and told me to leave that I shouldn't see this.  After calling the mortuary, and filling out the death certificate, I watched as my sister put anything she could on my mom's bed to be cremated with her, as though that would keep us with her.  The one thing I didn't do was watch them put her in the body bag, however my sister and I were sent upstairs during this, and we went out on the balcony and we watched her in that bag be taken out of the house and put in the vehicle.  I say all this, not for shock value, but rather I witnessed all this crap, that seemingly was a direct result of smoking and yet I kept smoking.

I don't want my children to have to see me die like that, I don't want to know at the end that I spent a huge amount of money to aid my death.  

If I make it through tomorrow, the next blog won't be so depressing, and this one I'll leave with some fun facts:

I only like the first two cigarettes in the morning, they go oh so well with my coffee

I can't stand the smell of cigarettes, in fact I have a "smoking jacket", this is an article of clothing that stinks to high heaven, it is used to protect what I am wearing from stinking.

Most people I know, will say I didn't even know you smoked, hence the smoking jacket :) oh and lots of hand washing.

I hate being next to someone who smells like an ashtray, I mean seriously you don't know you stink?  Please invest in a smoking jacket and smoking gloves while your at it! 

There it is, wish me good luck, and pray that I'm gonna love my new 10 extra pounds, fat girl here I come.