You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?
… There’s a last time for everything.
Whether it’s your last day of school, last day at a job, or even taking your last breath… there are a finite number of times we’ll do anything.
This can be a comforting realization, like knowing that eventually your newborn will sleep through the night…
But it can also be heart wrenching, like realizing there’s a last time you’ll see your parents, hug your kids, or walk unassisted.
Our experiences limit us, for better or worse.
Which got me thinking about the importance of being present, and cherishing more of those “last times”.
Because when we’re caught on the treadmill of life, we rarely stop to think about all the lasts that have come and gone…
Watching my daughter get older is a constant reminder of this for me.
When she was 2 years old, she used to say “hold you” when she wanted to get picked up.
It was incredibly cute so I never corrected her, and enjoyed every one of those hold you’s, knowing she wouldn’t say it forever.
(One day her grandmother corrected her, and she never said it again… I guess granny didn’t get the memo)
Almost three years later, my daughter doesn’t ask me to hold her nearly as much, and I’m sure that some time soon, I’ll have picked her up for the last time.
And while that hurts my heart to think about, it makes every time I do hold her that much sweeter.
So even if she’s a little bigger, and holding her makes my arm ache, I do it anyway because I know the last time will be here before I know it.
What about you?
How many lasts have come when you least expected it?
The last time you talked to a loved one.
The last time you saw a friend.
The last time you did a hobby.
Being aware of the limited nature of our existence helps me put things into perspective, and it’s something I practice every day.
I practice it by being present with my family, knowing my kids won’t be small forever.
I practice it when I go to the gym, (especially the days I don’t want to be there), because one day I won’t be able to lift anymore.
And most of all, I practice it when I wake up in the morning.
Because there will come a day when I go to bed for the last time… and we never know when that day is.
This happened to me. I fell ill at work one day and never once did I think I would never be able to return. I was medically retired at the age of 49. That was definitely not part of the “plan.”