Dear Tobacco,

Today I had dinner with the first person I've ever known to be weeks away from death because of lung cancer. Actually, he is the first person I've known that has *known* they are weeks from death, unlike my Uncle who died rather suddenly. He knows that within weeks his body will give out, his breath will be too short, but that despite it all he has made some wonderful connections and done some great things with this news.

I think it sucks that his addiction to tobacco has now taken years from his life. Granted he used to have a chocolate bar too many throughout the week, and he wasn't teriffically active, but shit - he didn't deserve this. Who the hell does.

I was scared to have dinner with their family today. I didn't know how I'd react to seeing his worn body, always near exhaustion and ever closer to shutting down. I didn't know what I'd say, how I'd act, or what I should do. What does one say to someone who will be soon facing the reality of death, the uncertainty of what comes next, even the knowledge that one may not know (care?) what happens to their lawn this summer?

We ended up having a lovely time, talking about gutters, crocs, grandkids, decks, property values, the food, brownies, painting, and of course the dogs (who came to dinner too).

I'm sad, though.

How do I give a hug to someone that recognizes that I might not see them again?

I don't know what my 'open letter to Tobacco' is really intending to say, other than the fact that people are taxing, making, profiting, investing in, and promoting tobacco are dealing with some BAD Karma. Shit, I don't know if there is a Hell, but there is the bad chi that surrounds tobacco. I'd like those people to know that the water they drink and the air they breathe has the moisture of the tears from those that have been touched by their labours. Our tears dreading the imminent cancerous death of our life-long friend, the tears that will come after, and ultimately the tears of all others suffering a similar fate are in the air that you and I breathe every day.

It's bizarre how much of our consciences we're able to 'turn off' to make a buck.

God, this sucks.