Six cigarettes yesterday. Today it will be twelve. You are back up to your pre-stroke level of smoking. I change tactics on you.
“What would you do if I engaged in risky behaviour that could leave you a widow and forced to raise our children single handedly? How would you feel about that?” I look at you intensely. You won’t look at me like I am scolding you. I answer for you, “You haven’t had to think about that possibility, because you had the stroke. While you were so ill and near death I did think about it. I thought about being a single parent constantly and I was very scared.”
When I told Tara the other day that you starting to smoke again. Tara was shocked and scared and sad all at the same time. The expression on her face haunts me just like the image of you smoking out on the deck. Our children need two parents. You have to remember that you are a father. It's ’he most important job in the world. And what is more important, I know that you love being a Dad. Start acting like a father and think about your family.”
You are quiet and want to go to bed early. I think that my talk has made you think. I think that I need time to get used to the idea that you are a smoker and you need time to adjust to our new life.
Just before bedtime, you played ball with the children. It was nice to see this interaction. I guess that we will just have to see how this is going to play out for you.