You Can Smoke A Cigar Daddy
Linda Wechter-Ashkin PhD NCSP BC-TMHC ADHD CCSP
I don’t really remember it, but my parents have told countless stories of how when I was a little girl I used to tell my dad, “You can smoke a cigar daddy.” I think that my mom wasn’t thrilled with the smell of a cigar especially in the house but apparently, I thought it was just fine. Fast forward to the birth of my daughter. My dad had not smoked a cigar for years but when Rikki was born, he brought a box of cigars to the hospital with a pink ribbon on it as a gift for Dave. Dave who was just starting his career as a pulmonologist at the time scoffed at it, but I loved the gesture. “You can bring a cigar to the hospital daddy.” Fast forward again to the present time and many nights one of Dave’s favorite things to do is to sit on the patio with a glass of scotch and you got it, a cigar. He will say do I have time for a cigar and my response is always, “Sure you can smoke a cigar Dave.”
Time is a funny thing. Seasons change. We learn. We grow. We change. Now when my dad is over and Dave offers him a scotch and a cigar he always politely refuses and sticks to his Cabernet. Cigars for me have become something of great significance despite the triviality of them. They were a way to affirm my dad’s right to be who he wanted to be when I was a young girl. They were a way for my dad to congratulate us on the birth of our first child and a way for me to thank him for his love and support. They are a way for me to give Dave the time he needs to unwind, relax, and be still. Now when Rikki’s boyfriend Sean comes over and sometimes when Alex comes over Dave will grab a cigar and share the experience with them. And when my grandbaby was born Dave bought a special cigar for her other grandpa so they could share the joy of the experience. I am in no way trying to convince you to smoke cigars, but I am telling you that something as simple as a cigar can be a way to create a connection between generations, and between families. Cigars in my life have been a symbol of love and acceptance. A stinky and maybe unhealthy symbol but still. I hope you find your cigar. I’d love to hear about it.
