Airman Lydia Faux on smoking

  • Published
  • By Airman 1st Class Tiffany Deuel
  • 48 FW/PA
ROYAL AIR FORCE LAKENHEATH, England --  Golden rays of sunshine beamed down from the sky, illuminating a vast garden of red roses, yellow tulips, multi-colored azaleas and, my mother's favorite, gardenias. This garden had been filled with beautiful flowers ever since my grandparents bought this patch of land back in the 1950s. I planted my first seed in this garden when I was five with my grandmother. She had said, "One day I will go to Heaven and this garden will be tended by you and your mother. This garden has been here for years and I want it to be here for many more." I replied, with as much conviction as a 5-year-old could muster, "Mama and I will keep the garden beautiful so that you can see it when you are in Heaven." Three years later, my grandmother passed away and I kept my promise.

Together, my mother and I filled the garden with life each spring. We planted the same flowers each year as a tradition. We planted roses, tulips, azaleas and gardenias. Everything was wonderful and I knew grandmother was happy, until years later, when I was twelve and things changed.

My mother, Lynette, was a remarkable person. She didn't drink alcohol, she didn't say hurtful things to me, she was a God-fearing woman and she was always there to lend a helping hand to anyone. Her only flaw was a smoking habit.

The coughing and shortness of breath that my mother had was an everyday thing. It was all I ever knew growing up, so it seemed normal to me. However, things became a lot worse. When I was twelve, my mother had to be hooked up to a breathing machine throughout the day, and when she wanted to go somewhere she had to wheel a small oxygen tank along with her. It was terribly saddening to see her like this, even more so that she still continued to smoke, unable to kick the habit she picked up long ago.

She had begun smoking at the age of 19, when a friend from school gave her a cigarette. If only my mother had known that from that one cigarette she would become addicted and smoke for the next 27 years. If only she had known that it would lead to various health problems and a broken promise to her mother, maybe she would have just said "no," and maybe she would still be with us today.

The last time I saw my mother alive was when I came home on leave from the Air Force. I had enlisted right after high school in hopes of carving a bright future for myself. This was the first time I had seen my mother since graduating from basic training one year prior. Although my mother was having breathing problems and nearly died twice while I was away, she still managed to light up a cigarette every so often.

The fact that she was suffering, yet still continued to smoke, which was the sole cause of her suffering, was unbelievable to me. The sad thing is there are many people, just like my mother, that act the same way.

Back at my base I work in an office consisting of six Airmen, including myself, four sergeants and one major. All but three Airmen in my shop smoke. It not only ruins their health but it also impedes work performance. Almost twice an hour, several of the smokers go out for a 10-minute smoke break. If they could view each cigarette as slicing at least 10 minutes off of their lives, maybe they could find the willpower to quit. I wish my mother had done that.

Tired of thinking of work, I looked out the window, where our beautiful garden had once been. Now it was no more than a barren patch of dirt, save for the few weeds that had sprung up in the flowers' absences.

I asked her, "Why won't you stop smoking? If you need help, there are patches, gum and programs to help you quit. Will you at least try?" She began crying; I did as well, and she asked me to come closer. She whispered, "I love you Lydia, but it's too late." I whispered back, "I love you too."

At the young age of 46, my mother departed the Earth leaving behind her 21-year-old daughter.

Throughout life, I have been offered a cigarette more times than I can count. Fellow Airmen from my shop and from the base in general are always offering. However, I have always said "no" for I know what it leads to. Cigarettes make the smoker cough the first time they smoke. Shouldn't that be enough reason to stop right then and there? They make you smell bad, especially when your clothes get wet from the rain. They stain everything yellow: the smoker's teeth, fingers even the walls of their home if they smoke indoors. Many fires have been started due to smokers falling asleep with lit cigarettes or flicking a cigarette without extinguishing it first. An Airman that fell asleep with a lit cigarette in his dormitory, which is a non-smoking building, burnt down his entire room. Luckily he got out and no one was hurt, but things could have been much worse than damage to government property. That Airman is in serious trouble now.

Furthermore, cigarettes not only affect the smoker, but innocent by-standers in the presence of a smoker are forced to breathe in the smoke as well. It is true that if someone is smoking you can simply move away from them, but you can't if you are their child or baby.

Smoking has taken over and ended lives. It needs to stop before more people are taken from their families and friends.

After my mother's funeral I vowed to myself that I would never associate with anyone that smoked and if anyone I knew became a smoker, I would try my best to help them quit.

Outside of the work environment, I am good friends with three of the Airmen in my shop, two of which are smokers. The two smokers are Airman 1st Class Ashley Ekaf and Senior Airman Jake Laernu. Airman Ekaf has been smoking for three years and Airman Laernu has been a smoker for six. They are interested in quitting because of the new PT test that is now in effect. It is not too late for them to change their ways. It was too late by the time I was old enough to help my mother. I intend to help them from their broken path.

Before going back to the base, where I had my work cut out for me helping my friends kick their habits, I dedicated a full afternoon to that barren patch of dirt outside our old house. I pulled every weed and planted lots of seeds. I planted the flowers we used to plant as part of our tradition. I planted roses, tulips, azaleas and my mother's favorite, gardenias.


Author's note: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Non-smokers need to help those that are destroying themselves; otherwise they will have a story similar to Airman Lydia Faux's, except their story will be true.