Firsts and Lasts

We drove to Jefferson on Friday to see my Dad since today is Father's Day and he was leaving yesterday for Belgium. As we were riding in the car Josh observed that this might be our last trip out of town before the baby was born. And thus, it began. Since then, we have diligently noted the lasts. We went out to lunch today after church and said "Perhaps this will be the last time (for a long time) that we eat out just the two of us." Maybe today was the last time we'll go to church before the baby is born. This could be the last Sunday evening Josh mows, Monday could be my last doctor's appointment, Wednesday my last hair appointment. What will have been the last movie we saw in a theatre? Last night might be the last for a long time that we cook eggs and waffles at midnight. How many more times will I load and unload the dishwasher, vacuum the floor, bathe Gatsby...post on this blog? I remember thinking when we found out we were having a baby that suddenly my days were numbered. Whereas before time seemed every day to stretch out before me, endless...now there were only so many. I had so much left to do, I thought! I'd planned to really make a go of this being an artist thing; I was going to finish at least my first novel. I was going to travel; Josh and I had so many more memories to make just the two of us. But the truth is- all those endless days I thought I had before were numbered nonetheless as are all the day's I'll ever have. But it was the seeming endlessness of them that prevented me from actually doing what I'd planned. Motivation can be hard to come by when it seems you've forever to do something. One should always be aware of the brevity of life...and never take time for granted. I've had plenty of days to do plenty of things and really, when I think back on them...on all my days...I realize that even if I didn't get anymore, the ones I've had were more than enough. I thought for awhile earlier in my pregnancy that if I'd just had a little more time I'd have done something really great with my pre-motherhood life. And then it hit me, that maybe the something great I was destined for was this. That one day when my son is older and figuring out his own life, I will tell him about mine and I will say that I did do something great, regardless of what books or artwork might come. This something I did will have been greater than any of that; I will say to him then, "It was you."
So, while now we live from one last to the next, treasuring each of them because the passing of time demands we must, any day now, I suppose, we'll be measuring our days in firsts. And because we'll remember that those days, however endless they may seem are indeed numbered nonetheless- we'll treasure each of them, too.