A Missed Last

We have a picture book at our house that chronicles the life of a child and all the last times that he does every day things that might get missed along the way. In her author notes, the writer talks about how we spend our children's days celebrating their firsts. First step, first tooth, first words, etc. But somehow, along the way, we miss their lasts. Last nap, last bottle, last adventure to the park, last time our little ones run up and jump into our arms. The author expresses that for the most part, it's impossible to know when a last moment actually occurs and she wonders (as a mother of six), would she have held on longer if she had known it was the last time? I'll admit, the book is a tear-jerker, but it has given me a new perspective about the little things that T does each day. This being said, I missed a "last" yesterday. You see, when I lifted T into his crib for his nap, it never crossed my mind that this would be the last time I would go through this motion. I have completed this movement countless times in his almost two year life, so when I laid him down to sleep yesterday and hoisted him into his resting spot, I did not stop to recognize that it was the last time I would do so.

Today dawned a new day and sometime mid-morning, I decided to investigate whether or not T's crib could turn into a toddler/daybed. We have been thinking about making the transition to a "big boy bed" and I thought that an in-between bed would help him make the leap. I have had this idea in the back of my mind for about a month or two but today, for whatever reason, I decided to act on it. As it turns out, the conversion was possible, not to mention quick and easy. T was absolutely giddy about the new set-up and was thrilled beyond measure at this new found freedom. He was now able to crawl in and out of bed - all on his own. In addition, for some strange reason, this crib-turned-bed also morphed into an all out trampoline - one on which T is able to get some sweet air. After the new sleeping pad was in place, I went about rearranging T's room, quite blissful and still unaware of my missed last. After everything was in place, M said to me, "Did you realize that yesterday you lifted T into his crib for the last time?" Whoa. How did this happen? I missed it. It was a last - not an earth shattering last, but a last all the same. Little tears popped up in my eyes. "No," I replied. "I missed it".

"I've watched you grow and barely noticed seasons as they pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time, I'd hold on to your lasts.
For some bright fall morning, you'll be going far away.
College life will beckon in a brilliant sort of way.
One last hug, one last good-bye, one quick and hurried kiss.
One last time to understand just how much you will be missed.
I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.
Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last."
(from "Let Me Hold You Longer", by Karen Kingsbury).