The Last Time
I was thinking today about “the last time,” and how sometimes, you don’t know that it’s the last time. Like the last time I picked up and held my little one. If I’d realized it was the last time I’d pick him up because he was at the cusp of too big for me to pick up anymore, I would have cherished it more. Held him a little longer, even if my arms ached from the weight. The last time I fed him a bite of food, because he was able to handle it on his own now. The last time he grabbed my hand to hold it while we walked, I would have held on tight. The last time he asked me to video him while he pretended to host a science show about dinosaurs. I didn’t know that he wouldn’t ask again, because he’d gotten older and self-conscious. There have been a lot of last times. There are a lot of firsts too, and more to come I’m sure. But it’s good to remember to stop and appreciate those little everyday things, because as life rolls on, some of those things are going to happen for the last time. So next time, when I’m exhausted after a long day at work and just want to sit and veg, and he asks me to come sit next to him on the couch so he can show me something he’s built in Minecraft, I’m going to remember that it might be the last time, and sit and appreciate that he still wants to share his game with me.


















