We talk about the first times but not the last times


We always talk about the “First Times” but never about the “Last Times.” We don’t talk about the last time that . . .

We were put down by our parents and never picked up again.

The last time they buckled us into our car seat.

The last time they tucked us in at night.

The last time we slept with our favorite stuffed animal.

The last time we played at recess.

The last time we played with our childhood pet.

The last time we’ll see our best friend.

Last time we’ll see some of our classmates from high school; the last time we’ll remember them. The last time we’ll read our favorite book, watch our favorite movie, eat our favorite meal.

The last time we’ll sleep under our parents’ roof with our brother or sister.

The last time we’ll tell our parents we love them, talk to them over the phone, or even see them again.

But. . .

There is also a last time we wore diapers and a last time we ran to our parents during a bad storm.

A last time for graduation.

A last time to feel pain.

A last time to weep.

A last time to cry out to the ceiling, wondering if God is on the other side.

A last time we’ll have to say goodbye.

A last time we’ll have to look for love.

A last time we’ll sleep alone.

A last time we’ll feel the wrenching stabs of heartbreak.

A last time we won’t understand.

A last time death will take what doesn’t belong to it.

A last time we won’t be strong enough, brave enough, or good enough.

Time. It began once, and it will end.

Time is the most-often squandered resource gifted to man.

Once it’s gone, it doesn’t come back.

Use it, but use it wisely.

Don’t regret not remembering the last times.