My father was a smoker for 20 years though he quit before my sister and I were born. I remember as a child hiding his dip cans, knowing that they were bad. He was always active through work, fishing, hunting, and family activities. He defiantly was a risk taker, dr back flips off our pontoon (no joke at age 50)
My dad was superman. Nothing could stop him..until towards the end of the year start of the next the family noticed his cough that started out as seeming nothing more than a seasonal cold, but when he started going to bed earlier and earlier and the coughing became more excessive he went to the doctor. I remember being in my room hanging up a poster when my mom came in and said "come into the living room" my dad was sat on the couch and on the other was my older sister. Ever so calmly my dad explained that the doctor said he had lung cancer. My heart thumped loudly but I just nodded and went back to my room wanting to pretend like it wasn't real. I continued to try to put the poster up when my dad walked in and asked if I needed help. I excepted but as I stepped down from the step stool the poster tore. I turned away from my father and started crying. Not because of the poster. Because of the fear for my daddy's life. He also knew I wasn't crying because of the poster, he brought me into a big bear hug. And said everything was okay. He fought that battle of cancer for 7 months.