The puppies were doing well, learning the rules slowly and stubbornly and neither of them chewed too much on the children. The children, by comparison, were having a tough time not tugging on the puppies. It was a noisy time in our lives...a sleepless time...but we may have been entering the happiest point in our lives. I didn’t want anything sneaking up on the family, so I went ahead to the doctor a week later. I asked him to call me at work with the results.
“What do you see, doc?” I asked when he called.
“Well, Todd...you’re healthy enough to start smoking if you want to,” was his reply.
We shared a laugh at that. I was glad to hear it. I didn’t mention any ghostly advice, but I had lied and told him my mother died of cancer at about my age. There was nothing in my blood or on the surface to indicate cancer. At least not then. Matt hadn’t given me a timeline and I didn’t want one. I wanted to enjoy life. Knowing the end of the story isn’t always a bad thing if you can still enjoy the pages in between.
I hung the phone up and thought about smoking. I thought about Matt, Danny and I sneaking cigarettes back in the 80’s. I thought about lighting one up right then and about the consequences, and I pulled the Zippo out of my pocket and twirled it in my hand. That became my after lunch pastime, thinking about life and spinning that lighter in my fingers.