lasts

As I wrote my blog post on seasons, the parallel theme that was running through my head was “lasts”. The overwhelming awareness came to me as I was writing about the home-grown tomatoes harvested by my father-in-law last summer- his last summer. The thought kept circulating in my head with such sadness when reflecting on that simple word.

Last doesn’t have to be a sad word. The last day of school before the summer break is always exciting. How about making your last college loan or mortgage payment. That’s very exciting. But, for some reason, my mind wanders to the sadder side of last.

We knew my father-in-law was not doing well, but he was a fighter and he pulled through so many other illnesses that we were hoping and praying he would be the same repeat-offender, once again. However, since April 14th, our family has experienced new firsts since the lasts have taken over that part of our history.

Once in a while, I need to wallow in my sadness, but what I'm experiencing pales in comparison to the remaining spouse and children. I need to shift my thoughts and pull myself out of all those emotions and reflect on life once lived and all the years of gathering and being together. I want to push away the sadness of all the lasts but they seem to resurface now and then.

Back in September of 2007, we celebrated my son’s 17th birthday at Robert Moses State Park. All but one birthday was celebrated at the beach. It was supposed to be the end of a great run of beach-party celebrations. He graduated in June of 2008 and by August, a month before his 18th birthday, he moved to North Carolina where he has lived ever since. Now, thirteen years later, we’re coming up on his thirtieth birthday. It’s almost impossible to believe my son is turning 30, but this year we’re going to recreate another beach-birthday-celebration. The crowd and location will be different but the sentiment will be the same. We’ll gather in the sun and surf and enjoy the wonder of coastal living. We thought the 2007 birthday-beach-bash was the last, but apparently, that’s not the case.

So, there you have it. Yes, lasts are difficult and often painful. But our lives do go on. It doesn’t do us much service to remain in a place of sadness, although that is sometimes very hard to do. It requires strength and courage to move out of the muck and mire into a more positive and hopeful posture. It’s hard, I know, but keep at it, keep pushing, keep trying to focus on a life well-lived instead of a life lost and all the lasts.