Sometimes I wish I could be left in the dark.
Because I really don’t want to know when the last time I will be able to pick up my eight-year-old is. It might have already occurred last Friday afternoon when I tried to carry her in from the car. Beach-fatigued and sandy she was just light enough for me to carry about 15 feet. I had to put her down.
That might have been it.
Or maybe she’ll jump into my arms next week and I’ll struggle under the weight of her growing limbs. When I think about her warm, baby-body eight years ago, soft head still smelling of infants and breast milk, I want to be able to pick her up at least one more time.
Before time takes over and I have to give her up to the world. I’d rather dream that there might be one last time still waiting for me, that last week wasn’t a last.
Is it better to be aware or unaware of a last?
Last night in a house you are moving from.
Last dinner with a friend who must travel back home.
Last word to someone who is dying.
It’s easier, maybe, to be unaware. It doesn’t sting. It feels better to dream there is still something out there, in the future, that might happen still. Even if I look back later and realize that it was the last time _____________ happened, it doesn’t smart as much because time has passed.
There is so much pain in the awareness of lasts.
Saying “goodbye”.
Driving her to the last day of preschool before Kindergarten.
Looking out of the airplane window and waving goodbye to a continent.
Now that hurts. Wounds, grief and passion well up and come out in laughter and in tears. It’s just so difficult to be aware of the last time you will walk through a place, the last time you will hold someone’s hand, the last time you will kneel down and tie your daughter’s shoe.
But isn’t this living?
As far as it is possible, I want to experience the grief and the longing, even if it is difficult. Living loudly in the middle of the joy and pain is far preferable to living quietly in apathy or unawareness.
It means not lying to yourself. It means thinking that yes, this might be the last time. It means making the most of today and this hour because it may not come back the same way again; today might be a last.
Have you had a LAST recently?
Although I only have one 4-year-old, I have learnt fast that motherhood holds maybe as many ‘lasts’ as it does ‘firsts’. I look at my 4-year-old, and I aim to be present, in the moment, because I have learnt speedily that no phase lasts forever.
I don’t always get it right, but I’ll keep trying… because the brevity of life demands it.
Our God is so gracious though… many lasts tend to usher in new beginnings, awesome firsts…
Be ever so blessed, Sarah
{{Hugs}}
Thank you Ruth.
My brother died unexpectedly the last Friday in March. The Monday before, I stopped in where he worked and chatted for about 10 minutes with him. I’m so thankful I did. It was our last conversation.
And my youngest child made his First Communion in May. That was a very bittersweet last – my last First Communion and my brother wasn’t there to celebrate with us. He was with us in spirit, I know, but it was still so hard with having this so close to when we lost him.
Wonderful topic. Blessings!
i am so so sorry for your loss, susan. i can’t imagine. thank you for sharing that here with us.
it was around this time last year that i would see my dad alive for the last time. in my heart, i sort of knew it. there was no real indication that he was dying, or when it would happen, even though he had a myriad of health issues.
he even begged me to come out and see him again over labor day with my sister and niece, but i was moving that weekend. the truth is, i just didn’t know if i could say goodbye to him again. again, having no real knowledge, just something in my spirit.
i remain grateful for the last time i saw him – he hugged me hard and we had a good talk about my sisters being mean (yes, even at 32…) and how much he loved me and we prayed and cried together for no good reason that we knew of then.
i won’t fill up your page (like i normally do). i had the need to post a story about it on my own blog recently: http://marykathryntyson.wordpress.com/2010/07/08/something/
p.s. sarah, i want you to know that i started writing again because i found lindsey nobles through you…who i found through lisa leonard…who i found in the back of a magazine when i was waiting for my obgyn appointment, the same day he would find a lump (that turned out to be nothing). i am so grateful for that gift that god gave back to me through each of you.
xo
wow, mary. thank you so much for this. brought tears to my eyes.
so glad you are writing again. so glad. it feels good, huh?
I’ve been homeschooling my kiddos since the beginning, and now we are preparing to send my oldest to 5th grade in a public school. It’s killing me. And I think it’s because I know it’s the first last of many to come . . . yet I know I can’t hold him here any longer, and I can’t keep forever at bay. Being a mom is all about saying goodbye one moment and milestone at a time.
Your post reminds me of that picture book Let Me Hold You Longer, a book I think all moms should have.
i agree, motherhood is one long “goodbye” i feel. it can be so hard, sometimes.
I’m not a mother, but Let Me Hold You Longer is such a good book! And I was thinking of that too while I was reading this post.
I will try to briefly talk about two lasts. Although, there are many painful and joyful lasts I could share. In June I said good-bye to my grandma. Like Mary Kathryn we knew it was close but we did not know when and I didn’t want to keep telling her good-bye. She knew I loved her and the last time I saw her I kissed her forehead and wispered, ‘I love you grandma’ in her ear. I too wrote about her here http://everythingbeautiful-jimmielee.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-memory-of.html at my blog.
I have a 9 year old boy who I am afraid is slipping away a little more each day. Each I have to give him a little more room to grow and each day i must prepare my self for the last time. The last time he holds my hand when we are walking together, the last time he sits on my lap, the last time he lets me kiss him good-bye, the last time he begs me to read to him. When you have sweet children each birthday is bittersweet with the knowledge that its the last time they’ll be 9
Lovely post,
Thank you!
oh i know…birthdays are bittersweet for mamas.
i’m so glad you got to talk to your grandmother. i need to send mine a letter, i think. =)
Awesome topic.
May we always keep in mind the conversation we have with someone might be our ‘last’ one… the hug might be our ‘last’ one… the letter we write…the phone call we make.
We do not know how long each of us has here in this life so we must act and as if ‘our last opportunity’ is here every day.
I believe if we really grasped this deeply in our hearts the verse~’may the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you our Lord our rock and redeemer’~ will be perhaps gifts for others to hear. Let’s keep this ‘LAST’ topic close to us this week. Thank you Sarah.
yes, sharon. thank you for the reminder. =)
One of the toughest lasts I think I’ll ever experience is coming up in…36 days? Something like that. My little sister who is the sibling I’m closest to and I don’t want to say love the most, but there is just so much there, is leaving on a plane to the Philippines on August 26 to serve as a missionary and won’t be coming home for 3 years. Not being able to hug her, not being able to sit in a room and laugh with her, not being able to go see movies together, that is what breaks me up inside and hurts so ridiculously bad. Some days I just push the feelings down and pray they’ll go away and they don’t and I’ll be driving down the road that afternoon and just start crying, or, sitting at my desk reading a blog post about lasts and squall like a baby.
Control is such a hard thing to give up isn’t it? And what’s funnier is we never really had that control to begin with.
Thanks for sharing Sarah. Even if it made me cry.
I meant to tell mention you can visit my sister’s blog at http://feetthatfollow.blogspot.com
wow rebekah. that’s gonna be hard. but what an exciting time for your sister!
Thanks for making me cry.
Good post.
didn’t mean to. =)
This post has had me in tears. I am brought straight back into the last time I held Livvy in my arms. If I had known that this would be the last time I ever had chance to hold my daughter alive would I have done anything different. Well i wouldnt have left her thats for sure. I laid her down to sleep, I never expected her never to wake again. I am so grateful for the fact my last words were our nightly saying, “I love you to the moon, stars and back” God bless sweet angel”.
I know we will meet again so i guess it isnt a last just a very long time.
oh wow, sara. that’s huge. thank you so much for sharing that here. taking a deep breath so i won’t cry.
your bravery amazes me.
I just packed up the baby bottles and various baby gear for {possibly} the last time. It was much harder than expected it to be. I extended a 1 hour project over a week so I didn’t have to admit it was happening.
Beautiful post as always. I think it is better to not know it is the last, then you live all your moments wanting them to be beautiful memories to hold onto.
i know what you mean – not wanting to admit what was happening.
hard. taking the next step into the next stage is difficult, huh?
i had so many lasts growing up. every time my dad had to put me on the plane again to go back home. i hate lasts. i have lived my life avoiding lasts…. yet this self-protectionism doesn’t work because you are right – no matter how hard we try to fight it – there will always be another last. I need to learn to live in the reality of this…
it’s hard. lasts, i’m learning, are just a part of being human. thanks for your comment, jenny.
There are many lasts that cause us to grieve because we can never have them again. My 2 daughters are quickly approaching womanhood. I will never again hold them against my chest and feel their little breaths whispering against my skin. However, I have a first to look forward to that is born from those lasts. Some future day I will hold their babies against my chest and celebrate being a grandfather.
There are some lasts that I am glad I am aware of so that I don’t miss the importance of the moment – like the last father-daughter dance that I attended with my youngest daughter. There are other lasts that I would rather be surprised by – like knowing when my last day will be in this life. I want to focus on life for life’s sake.. not death’s.
Great thoughts for this early Tuesday morning.
well said, tony. mine are 4 and 8… and it’s going far too quickly.
big sigh…
The memory that comes to my mind are the final summer visits with a dying friend almost 2 years ago. Not wanting to say goodbye, but knowing that it could be goodbye. In the end I was there as her final breath left her body.
I think it’s important to keep in mind that we don’t know how much time we have so that we remain grateful for the time we have.
Great post, as always
Thank you!
thank you Erin. That must have been unbelievably hard but i’m glad you were there for her.
I had to say goodbye to my dear Mother almost 3 years ago. I hugged her one last time and told her I will be back next weekend as we lived 5 hours apart. She looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and told me, “I love you so much, always remember how much I love you”. With tears in my eyes I knew that would be the last time I saw her. 4 days later she died from breast cancer.
Last month I went to the farm that I grew up on. It’s to much for my Dad to take care of by himself and without Mom there the life is gone from that old house. Dad sold it and is in the process of moving out. It was so painful thinking this is the last time I will walk through this door. I will never get to hike on all this land or go swimming in the river. I wont be able to play the piano sitting in the livingroom or sit on the porch with all the kiddos and there cousins playing in the yard together. It was a very painful trip. It was a lot of painful last.
I know that life will be full of painful last as my 3 kiddos are growing so fast. My 9 year old daughter decided to try on a training bra and makeup all in the same day… It made me rethink drinking… heavily! LOL (Kidding)
However God is always faithful and when those last feel like they are draining the life out of me I know he is there to lift me up and be there for me when I need him most!
~Sarah~
sarah – what a story you’ve lived!! i’m so sorry for your loss.
don’t say training bra, though. mine oldest girl is 8…life is moving far too quickly.
Yeah the problem is I tried to tell her she didnt even need it yet, but she wanted “to see what it felt like”!! Ughhhh Im so not ready for this!
Sarah, you hit such a chord with me today because last night I realized I gave birth to my LAST baby almost 3 months ago. I am still holding out hope we will have a 4th, but most likely not. Quite honestly, I am depressed & scared. I hate lasts. I am praying for acceptance but it hasn’t come yet.
another commenter just reminded me that lasts always bring firsts. i’m sorry that this is difficult for you. i’m sure that you will be able to make the right choice.
Goodness, in tears today and feeling deeply. So many lasts in my life lately. Thanks for this. I like to shut down in times like these. I needed to remember that it is ok to feel these things and walk through them today.
i shut down too. or i avoid. you aren’t alone, i promise…
I’m remembering spending almost every day and night after work with my grandma last october/november while she died from lung cancer. Recording all of our conversations on my iphone, repeating the same things over and over to her, and treasuring every moment because I didn’t know which moment would be my last.
Then, being beside her bed with my sisters, husband, and parents while we sang Jesus Loves Me (one of her favorites) as she took her last breath.
One of the hardest and most poignant moments i’ve ever experienced. I am SO grateful I had the opportunity to embrace the LAST moment with full knowing that it was the last. I look back with such gratefullness at that whole season.
Amazing post, Sarah.
wow, heidi. that is just painfully beautiful.
Ok, so now that you just ripped out my heart… with a two month old, a sixteen month old, and a 15 year old on her first mission trip, you’ve got my mind considering a lot right now.
Since humor is how I cope:
I wish I didn’t know about my loss of virility this past week!!!
i just don’t know what to say, angus. =)
Neither do I.
I found out your site bec of the ADD stuff.
I read your posting sometimes when I look
For genuine Transparency that touches and weakens me a bit.
I don’t agree with your God stuff, no patience to chase
Ghosts. But I respect faith in the unseen, good therapy,
Anxiety and ego management as you in feel “chosen”. Oh yeah.
Best way to extend your carrying
Before getting weird looks is to do
Some weights for back. Gym stuff.
You live a lot of contradictions I know, you should be proud of
Your courage to explore and experience real life out
Of a bubble.
Take care, you make people think with your raw humanity.
BK
thanks for that BK. i love it that you don’t agree with me. makes the conversation great.
i appreciate your comment and your kind words. =)
lasts come before firsts and firsts allow us to discover who we can be. It’s tough but I am sure you can give her a piggy back ride, run and fall on the beach…
firsts shall become lasts..and vice versa for this world to evolve and humans to painfully discover their hidden selves and pursue perfection by making the next generation smarter, healthier and happier as is the trend since A&E got horny, Apples with a bite are still causing temptations today. Who would have guessed.
God Bless……..
My most recent last: On our last night at school, my roommate and I played pooh sticks, pushed our beds together to sleep, and talked late into the night. We did not know then that she would have to transfer to another school. We were blissfully unaware that that was our last night as roommate companions – & I’m glad of that. The week of goodbye-for-nows was emotional enough without that added weight.
Your post reminded me of a quote from Sheldon Vanauken’s A Severe Mercy: “[I]f he wanted the heights of joy, he must have, if he could find it, a great love. But in the books again, great joy through love seemed always to go hand in hand with frightful pain. Still, he thought, looking out across the meadow, still, the joy would be worth the pain – if, indeed, they went together. If there were a choice – and he suspected there was – a choice between, on the one hand, the heights and the depths and, on the other hand, some sort of safe, cautious middle way, he, for one, here and now chose the heights and the depths.”
I couldn’t agree more.
oh my goodness, laura, that just gave me some serious goosebumps. i LOVE that. beautiful.
My most recent “last” was Jadyn’s last day of day care. She starts Kindergarten in less than 3 weeks and when I think of how quickly the last 5 years have gone, I want to break down and sob.
Because she may very well end up being my “only”, I feel like my world is full of conjoined firsts and lasts. I’m trying to remember to live in every moment, not being overly sentimental or anticipate too much.
hmm. that must be true, huh. but i love it that you are fine with saying goodbye to something because you can say hello to something else.
thanks amanda (remembering our coffee at panera with CB in OK right now) =)
We recently moved across the country from a home,town,job and friends that we loved dearly. There were lots of lasts in a short amount of time. We are in transition now waiting for our “firsts” to start happening. Not sure when that will be, all in God’s timing. Though it has been extremely hard we thankful for all those lasts we had.
oh YES! we forget that lasts bring firsts! thanks for mentioning that. what an exciting time. =)
I’ve had many lasts in the last couple of years, but many firsts as well. Almost two years ago I said goodbye to graduate school, to the seemingly carefree days of single-adulthood, and to life as I’d always known it. I took on the new job of military wife, freelance writer, and future mother. Although my job as a wife has taken me far away from family and old friends, I’ve experienced how faithful God truly is, even in this unknown environment. Yes, it’s sad to say goodbye to the past, but it’s oh so exciting to say hello to the future!
This post reminds me of every trip to Kansas to see my Grandma over the past decade. I knew she was getting up there, and every time I walked out her front door to leave, I wondered if it would be the last time. I always made “I love you” my last words, just in case. She continued to live for quite a few years since I began having those thoughts, but passed away about a year and a half ago at the age of 94. The last time I left her house, (3 months before her death,) her health was declining rapidly, and I was pretty sure it was really the last time I would see her. I’m not sure whether I would have preferred not to know. I’m glad I knew enough to be intentional about visiting when I did.
Just recently some close family members have turned away from the Lord and won’t have anything to do with us. I had a feeling I would be losing my sweet niece and so the last thing I was able to say to her was “you know your Auntie loves you right?” and gave her a big hug. She told me she knew…I hope that wasn’t the last time I am able to tell her that.
My mom had a freak heart attack and was in the ICU for 1 week before we had to let her go. By the time the 7th morning came and the machines were going to be shut off, my heart was so broken, I had no words left to say. That morning we all took a special time in her room. My husband and I went in together and left our 9 month old son in the waiting room with family. I got to the edge of the bed and just put my face in her blankets. Too much to say in one conversation, yet in most ways nothing to say at all. I had no major regrets except I wanted more time. I was heartbroken for the outcome, but always at peace with my mom. My husband and I sat in silence with the beeping machines. And as we left Ben said, “I promise to love and take care of your daughter and grandson every day of my life.”
heather, I am crying right here at my desk reading your story. I can’t imagine what that would be like. not at all.
thank you so much for sharing that…
A last kiss…with whom I never anticipated a last.
I’ll never forget the last time my Grandpa spoke to me. He was in the hospital and I was leaving to hurry home to my family. Before I left, he asked me to hold him and put my arms around him and squeeze really hard. It was as though he knew it would be the last time. I often look back at that day and think, if I knew that would be the last time, I would never have left that night.
I ache with the remembrance of lasts… last kiss, last hug, last look… but I know that the “lasts” I’ve been through in recent months are nothing, being they’ll return. There are other lasts… last conversation before the parental lies were revealed, last time in the old house, last holiday as a whole family… the irreparable, chosen lasts are the ones that sting the most. But as someone said, above, each last brings a first, and sometimes those are even more beautiful than that which ended.
{Catching up on reading, tonight… and remembered, with this post, why I fell in love with your writing back in those early blogging days. Love you.}
Sarah,
Once again I thank you for the tenderness with which you write.
This post has touched my heart in a way that I can’t seem to put into words right now. It took me back to just a few of the “lasts” in my life. Some brought sadness others brought great joy. Thank you. Gods blessings. Keep writing, the Lord is using you in ways you can’t imagine.
Great post. I have thought about this topic before. There have been a few times in my life where I thought, “If I had only known that was the last time, I would have…” So I think the key is to live each day and each moment and each interaction like it’s the last, all the while hoping its not. So then, if it does turn out to be the last, you won’t have any regrets.
i seem to waver back and forth on this. sometimes i wish i knew it was going to be my last kiss, or handhold, or couch-snuggle. but other times, i’m glad i didn’t know. for if i’d known, i’d have clung to that moment, that last, so tightly… i practically would’ve smothered it. and may not have been able to just be in it.
no matter which way i think about it, there is loss in lasts. makes me think: i can’t wait for my heart to be caught up in the joy and wonder of firsts…
My grandmother passed away last month. She was a mother to me. Although she had been sick for some time, it didn’t numb the pain of this reality any more than a sudden death would’ve. Most of my trips back home (three states away) have been to see her. I saw her last in April, while she was in a nursing home. It was such a wonderful time spent with her. She laughed more than in previous months, and she was so happy to get tons of kisses from me and my boys. I left that day knowing in my heart it would be the last time I’d see her alive.
There has been a lot of funerals I’ve attended recently, and it has made my eyes a little more keen to the fact that tomorrow isn’t promised. That any day really, could be the last. As a result, I started a set of journals for each of my boys, telling them just how much I love and appreciate them. I’ve included prayers, bits of advice, and everyday happenings in our lives. One day I’ll be gone, but I want that to be a physical reminder of my love for them.
yesterday i moved out of my townhouse where i have been in graduate school. now it may seem silly, but that was the last place i saw my fiance before he walked out on me. the last place we were happy and carefree together. he had come to visit for the weekend and everything we had ever dreamed of was on the horizon. and then it was all gone.
there were so many memories in that townhouse. camping trips with my roomie and her now husband. countless meals cooked together on weekends when my ex-fiance visited. sledding in the freakish 20+ inch snow outside. walks in the neighborhood.
was i sad that it was the last time i had to make the 4.5 hour drive from my townhouse to my hometown? no. was i sad that my first year of my master’s was done? no. the painfulness of this last is that i was leaving the last place j. and i were happy together. and knowing that other than at my parent’s house, j. won’t know where to find me anymore. . .and that is excruciating.
What a poignant post. It’s for this reason that I try never to leave my husband or boys without saying I Love You. Even if I’m running over to the store that’s less than a mile away. Or walking down the street.
One of the more memorable and unbeknownst to me lasts happened after the Hayman Fire in Colorado burned over 138,000 acres, including an area where you used to go four-wheeling all the time. It was one of our favorite places and there was a little cabin down by the river and it’s all gone. Because we went often, we had no idea that one day it would change so dramatically and we’d never see that cabin or landscape again.
Not recent, but….you’ve written words my heart cannot express adequately. The last time I nursed one of my babies. The last time I fed the old dog and scratched him behind the ear…he died peacefully, in hi sleep. The last time we spent (insert here: Christmas, Thanksgiving, Family Reunion, Fourth of July) with dear friends and family who are no longer walking this earth….sigh. I think it’s better NOT to kow it’s the last time.