lasts

Today is my middle son’s last day of high school. No words, no less, will be shared this day in regard to any graduate encouragement, praise or proclamation; such is an approximate week away. I wish to instead speak of something different yet relevant. I wish to speak about all these “lasts.”

For JT, it was his last day…

His last day in Biotech…
His last Nerf Wars…
His last time pulling into 1 Tiger Trail no more than half awake…
His last mad dash out of the parking lot at the end of the day…
His last avoidance of the school lunch…
His last late night scarfing through the pantry for what to put in his sack lunch…
His last show choir competition…
His last show choir “grand champions” award…
His last class field trip…
His last concert…
His last egg drop invention…
His last game…
His last time to put on the uniform…
His last morning searching for clean socks…
His last GPA/class rank announcement…
His last day in the stands…
His last time cheering on his buddies…
His last prom…
(His last time his madre pays for prom…)
His last ACT attempt…
His last undergrad application…
His last high school essay…
His last morning scrambling for some festive spirit wear…
His last early-morning-not-talking-to-his-brother, simultaneously getting ready…
His last late night, thankful moment, talking with his parents…
His last show choir guys sleepover…
His last “grab-some-food-at-B-Dubs” after school…
His last time to take the mound…
His last daily banter with the guidance department…
His last morn not really eating the minimal breakfast I made for him before school…
His last political debate in AP Gov…
And his last day doing life with his current best friends…

While “lasts” often make us grimace — as much of what we love, does come to an end — I’ve learned that “lasts” give life meaning. It’s why wrestling with the reality of heaven and hell is vital; they’re the only things said to forever last.

“Lasts” help us not take whatever-the-last-describes for granted.

In fact, it’s one of the main reasons, this semi-humble current events observer advocates for term limits; if our representatives knew they had only a limited time to serve us well, perhaps they would listen more closely to the totality of their constituents, work better with the persons across the aisle, and be more prudent in their decision-making and spending. They only have so much time to serve. They need to serve us well.

Just a simple thought today, recognizing that most things exist only for a season, and yes, seasons change. Seasons give life value. Life has some necessary endings, allowing us to get to what’s next.

While I pondered this post yesterday afternoon, my son had 20, maybe 25 of his friends out in the backyard playing a rousing game of football. While a regular routine of theirs, no doubt it was the last after school game of his high school tenure.

Wisely, he enjoyed it so.

Respectfully…
AR