Helpless

My husband smokes. He smokes a lot. He's smoked for nearly 35 years. He has what I politely call a smoker's cough. It's more like he's hacking up a lung. While he's enjoying his version of Breakfast of Champions (Folgers and Winstons) he coughs so much he sounds like he's about to throw up. I lay in bed listening to him enjoying his first cigarette of the day and wish there was something I could do for him, but I know there isn't. He says he wants to quit, he just can't now because he's under a lot of stress. When things calm down he'll quit. Really, he will. Maybe.

I know better than trying to make him quit before he's ready. If I tried to make him quit he would. Or at least, he wouldn't smoke in front of me, but I know he would be smoking every chance he got when we were apart. So I just wait in bed and pretend I don't hear the choking and coughing. Helpless. Unable to do anything but pull the covers up over my head and think happy thoughts. It's really sad because his step father died of lung cancer just a couple of years ago. I just hope he isn't next.