It's a funny and sad movie about two very different guys who are dying of cancer, and their mission to check off all the items on their joint bucket list.
In the opening scene, Morgan Freeman's character finds out via a phone call that he has lung cancer. He looks at the cigarette burning in his hand, drops it and walks away in a shocked daze. It reminded me of my dad, who quit the day he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I couldn't help wondering how someone who "couldn't" quit before, can suddenly just.....do it. It struck me as terribly sad that there is something seemingly motivating or miraculous about getting that terrible news.
I quit smoking when it FINALLY occurred to me that if I was ever given that terrible news, it was going to really hurt a bunch of people that I cared a whole lot about. I didn't quit for them, though. I quit because I knew it would be my fault if I was diagnosed with cancer: not only had I not done anything to prevent it, I had actually done everything to bring it about. I quit because I knew I wouldn't be able to bear the self-hatred I would feel for putting the people I love through that pain.
I am an addict. The only way I quit was when the pain of not quitting outweighed the pain of quitting. For me, that happened when I realized it would kill my soul to see the people I love watch me die by my own hand. I guess for some folks, that threshold is reached when they are told they are dying. I think that is very sad.