Your story has triggered a semi-related memory. My mother would sometimes enter my bedroom with a lit cigarette. Sometimes just to say goodnight, sometimes she would wake me up from a sound sleep just to yell at me. I remember my room being pitch black and the only light I would see was the orange glow of her cigarette.Sometimes I would have difficulty falling asleep (or falling back asleep) because the odor of her cigarette smoke would linger in my room. I would resent it at first, but then I would find it comforting in a way and then would be able to fall asleep.
At the time I thought my mom was smoking in my bedroom simply because she smokes all the time. I wonder if theres any chance on some level she wanted me to smell her smoke? Even when she left the room, a part of her was still there dominating over me, if that makes sense.
