She was beautiful, both inside and out. She was my friend. And they killed her.
She smoked like a chimney. She knew they were bad for her and for those around her, but she couldn’t stop. Life kept throwing stresses at her and back to that swirling stick of smoke she went. It calmed her nerves, she said.
Then, this comforter stopped her in her tracks. A sign warning people not to smoke because oxygen was in use was posted at the entry of her home. She fought for every breath.
Until, finally, it took even that from her.
And it took her from us.
I can’t wait to see your beautiful soul again, in a place of no more sorrow, no more fighting to breathe, no more cigarettes, and no more tears.
I love you, my friend. Rest in peace.
Dedicated to CEK 1955-2018