It was pointed out to us once that although we diligently note and document the firsts in our child's lives, the lasts are seldom celebrated, if even noticed. Why? Because we often are not sure when a final thing is happening. We can hardly wait for the last diaper change, the last temper tantrum, the last argument about cleaning rooms, but we usually don't know the end we have been longing for has arrived until much later. One day our kid will reasonable say, " It's subzero temps outside, I think I will need mittens.", we will shake our heads, and say, " Oh my goodness. When did this happen? I can't remember the last time I had to tell him he was going to freeze his fingers off if he left the house without proper winter clothing."
Other lasts, when we do eventually realize that they were, are just as hard to pinpoint in time, but leave us nostalgic rather than relieved. Often it is for things that we probably did not fully appreciate when they were happening in the midst of busy child raising years. For example, when was the last time you received a sagging bouquet of dandelions or a colorful crayon drawing from one of your sweet offspring?
So, as the last child began his last year of high school something made us reach for the camera to record an image of the last book brought home for mom to cover with brown paper bag and packing tape protection from the blood, sweat, and tears that this subject has caused over the years. Mostly to the parents of course.
And, we must confess that while we have taken great pride in our skills at making textbooks ironclad, and loved that even as big boys there was still one thing we could do for them long after the classroom party planning and field trip chaperoning ended, after 20 years of attention to grades and school calendars we are fine with moving on to whatever next first future lasts are ahead.
Onward!
