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OpinionFebruary 18, 1995

To the editor: During my last visit to see a dear friend, dying from cancer, his last words still ring clear. When I arrived at his home, he was looking off into space as if he was meditating, perhaps about the life he had lived and why it was coming to an abrupt end. I sat down beside him and started to light up a cigarette as he turned toward me and said, "You know, I used to think that a cigarette was my best friend, while all along it was killing me."...

Ron Farrow

To the editor:

During my last visit to see a dear friend, dying from cancer, his last words still ring clear. When I arrived at his home, he was looking off into space as if he was meditating, perhaps about the life he had lived and why it was coming to an abrupt end. I sat down beside him and started to light up a cigarette as he turned toward me and said, "You know, I used to think that a cigarette was my best friend, while all along it was killing me."

Is your best friend killing you? Is he there every morning to give you that burst of energy you need from a restless night, a night were he was deprived of your attention but never ceased to cry for it? Is he at work with you to comfort you in every stressful situation, situations you are convinced you can't handle without his assistance? In the beginning of your relationship he was content to be there whenever you felt you needed him. Now you find him demanding your attention and dedication. You give him this dedication and attention above everyone and everything you love. And your dedication to him is something to be seen. You stand in the cold and the rain to be with him, since you are no longer allowed to be with him at your workplace. You spend more time with him in your back yard than with the family who loves you and is concerned about his effect on you.

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It this thing you hold in your hand your best friend? Not really. If this has been you thinking, remember the last words of a real friend: "I thought he was my best friend, when all the time he was slowly killing me, feeding poison to my brain and creating illusions, deceiving me to no good end."

RON FARROW

Cape Girardeau

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