A friend of ours wrote a touching article recently that brilliantly juxtaposed the firsts in life with the lasts. As parents we all remember so many firsts: the first time we changed their diaper, saw them ride a bike, watched them go on a date or drive the car. But the article fixed on lasts: the last time our kids needed a ride to school, asked for help with their homework or snuggled with us in our bed.
That made me blush with emotion. So to keep it all real I decided to remember the lasts I won’t miss.
Daughter comes downstairs wailing. Clearly in a life or death panic she blasts into the kitchen freaked out and blathering about some horrible transgression. What – your brother accidentally walked into your room while you were changing? Your mother borrowed some important piece of clothing again and now you cannot wear it tonight? No. Worse. The dog snuggled up to her while she was chilling on her bed. But dog has itchy but. Drags that across daughter’s leg leaving a champion sized skid mark. Ew.
Happy for that to be a last.
With my eldest graduating I will be happy to have picked her up for the last time from a highschool party where she may have had a bit too much to drink. This time I am there to take home a couple of others who are in way worse shape. My wife did so much more of this than I. And it’s perverse that I’m actually the proud Dad that (this time) it was not my daughter but one of her friends. Em’s in control, making her way through the crowd saying goodbye and then she climbs into the car.
Yes, I have a towel and a Tupperware bucket in case it’s needed. Yah, right there in the back seat. Keep the window open.
Happy for that to be a last.
Mid morning downtown, just going into a presentation I have prepared for during the entire week prior. Very important to stay focused. Then a panicked call comes in – someone is at school but needs some vitally important item not taken that morning. What?! Now?
Uh, I can’t help you right now. Gotta go. Will call as soon as this critically important thing is done… It’s not that I wouldn’t do anything for you. I’m just drawing the line at everything.
Actually, I never got as many of those calls as my wife. The kids figured out early on that in certain circumstances I would just provide them with advice and gently hang up the phone. They never even called me, wisely choosing to call their Mother. I would hear about it at dinner. But on behalf of my wonderful, fabulous stunning wife, I’m happy for that to be a last.
Getting home late in the evening after a stressful day at work only to be faced with a crisis of kids requiring food and immediate taxi service to whatever program that has already started. Without changing the laws of physics, none of the things that need to be done will be completed on time. Or at all in some cases. This reality does not dilute the panic, introduce perspective or mitigate the immediate need for me to provide a solution.
Happy for that to be a last.
And if course I’ll be happy to hear for the last time that our kids are waiting for their allowance…
I’ll still miss all the lasts. The last time.
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