Last Times

As you can probably tell from recent posts, I'm in a reflective mood of late. My oldest announcing his impending fatherhood, my second-born readying to move out for college in the fall, my baby preparing to move into her high school years …all things which send me sifting through my memories one moment and anticipating excitedly what lies ahead the next.

Reflection…

Something I noticed with my oldest when he moved out has stuck with me as I watch my 2 younger children edge closer to that time with each passing day. Lasts. The last time something that’s become routine in our lives occurs. I think it should be preceded by trumpets or fireworks or, at the very least, a formal announcement. Alas, they too often come without fanfare of any sort.

Did you know the last time your baby nursed it was his last time?
Did you know the last time your child crawled to get across the room it was the last?
What about the last time she held your hand to cross the street…did you know it, too, was a last?

As one birthday follows another, there are so many last times that roll into each other. I can’t remember the specific day I took my son for his last haircut, but I know it occurred. As with other significant times: the days are long gone when I could sit on his bed, run my hand through his hair and watch him sleeping so peacefully; I no longer wait for the sound of the door opening as he comes in for the night, assured that he is safe and sound at home; calls from him requesting extended curfews don’t come anymore.

Those precious, daily events morph into memories that go unrealized until we suddenly become aware that we miss them.

As I’ve pondered this, it occurs to me maybe there’s a reason for us not knowing. Perhaps God designed it that way in hopes we would treasure – nay, relish - things as they happen instead of rushing our children from one stage into the next without pause. I don’t know. But something I can look back through the years and clearly see: God, in His infinite mercy, gives us a new “first” to follow every “last” we experience. And that is a kindness of rich flavor.

Anticipation…