He could have made it easier on himself, cutting back, or only smoking outside and away from my sister, and then me and my brother and my little sister over the years, but he chose to stop altogether.
I’m not sure why, and I have never really asked him, but I like to think it was because we meant more to him, and so that he could be there whenever he wanted to be there, or whenever we wanted him to be there without us having to wait until he was finished with ‘just this one smoke,’ and so that he wouldn’t miss the important things, whether great or small, because he had gone outside for a smoke.
Of course, he couldn’t always there because he also made the sacrifice of working long, hard hours for his family, but he was there when it mattered, and the sacrifices he made mattered.
There’s always an easy way to go about things, but then they aren’t sacrifices, are they?
Happy Father’s Day Dad, and thank you for every sacrifice, great and small that you’ve ever made for your family.