I am having a tough day which I'm not dealing with very well. We (my brother, sister and I) think that our mother is dying. She fell and broke her hip and we knew the prognosis was not good. She is 93, has had a full life, and I will miss her dearly. In the meantime, I am tasked with writing her obituary and it hasn't been that long since I gave up cigarettes. It's been complicated with cigs and me: we go back a long time to when I was 16, and then off and on over the years -- sometimes for sixteen years at a time. This time I had quit for seven months, and then fallen into again for three weeks. So now I am only 19 days into the quit and am having terrible cravings tonight. Problem is, that three days ago I was here on this website bragging about this method I'd found to deal with the cravings: 100 steps. The distance from my office to my bedroom is ten steps, so ten times I walk those ten steps, telling myself how good it feels to have clean lungs and the ability to breathe without coughing. I guess I'd better start walking and counting and breathing.