Well, I'm into my third month...
I always felt guilty when I smoked -- not least because, when I was a little kid, I promised my great uncle that I'd never take-up the deadly habit. And I kept thinking how disappointed he'd be if he'd lived long enough to see me break that promise.
Today I learned that 16 December was his birthday. I had no idea until mum told me. My quit date was 16 December last year. I may have broken my promise, but at least I've quit now. I hope he'll except my commitment and strength as an apology.
Happy birthday, uncle Jack.
I miss you.