It reminded me of a blog post I wrote a few years ago along the same lines. As parents we experience countless "lasts" with our children. Sometimes we know going in that it's the last time; sometimes we don't. Sometimes the "last" is a momentous event (graduation, confirmation); other times it's trivial (tying shoes or applying a bandage). Sometimes, while it's the last time for one child, we know there are others waiting in the wings to do the same thing. But if we're on our last child, there are all sorts of lasts that are specific not only to him but that are the last time we'll do that thing with any of our children, ever.
Yesterday something that came up in a conversation with Evan, my 10-year-old, prompted me to start reciting from the book One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish by Dr. Seuss. How many times I have read that book over the years, starting with Trevor (now 22), then with Caitlin (now 19), and finally with Evan. It has to have been hundreds! No wonder I can still recite large portions of it from memory. Sometimes when I do I can hear in my head the exact way it sounded on my children's lips. So it was a sweet and serendipitous surprise last night when Evan asked not only if we could read the book at bedtime, but if he could read it to me. (I am really glad my 10-year-old still likes Dr. Seuss.) We sat together, and he read, and we laughed, and I remembered. . . . and wondered whether this was another last last.
3 comments:
Oh, my. This is so important and poignant, but I hate the thought of lasts because my memory isn't the best, and these times I do not want to forget.
Thanks Cheryl. This was a bit of hot tea with honey and milk that I needed this morning. Keep writing.
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