World No Tobacco Day takes me back a few years...and reminds me of the struggle millions of people face everyday trying to quit.

My mother smoked right up until about two hours before she died of lung cancer at age 56. By that point she couldn't hold the cigarette by herself. Too many painkillers and being a skeletal 70 pounds, the only strength left in my mom was her addiction to nicotine.

My sister and I, both young at the time, couldn't bring ourselves to indulge her in what would be her last request. My dad had the insight on nicotine addiction and understood its power. Both being from Scotland, cigarettes were a part of life for my parents; making a new life in Canada made smoking a slice of Hollywood, not unlike driving big cars and dancing at the Pallais Royale on Saturday nights.

For years we tried to get Mom to quit. And for years she told us her cough had nothing to do with her smoking. She never believed her lung cancer had anything to do with it either.The minute my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer five years earlier, my father quit cold turkey. He honestly believed my mom would too. There was a lot at stake.

As a mom, she was loving and fiercely protected my sister and me. She would have taken on any home intruder, heck even a Grizzly wouldn't have stood a chance against her if we were in harm's way. But she couldn't take on Big Tobacco.Mom quit smoking at 5:45 p.m., August 28, 1987.