This road I’m on.

I think about “last times.”

I can’t help it.

It’s where I’m at.

Whenever I start thinking this way I remember something that my son asked me a couple years ago when we were on vacation. We were out walking, having one of our usual deep conversations (which is usually him talking and me listening) and he asked me something profound.

“Did you know the last time that you held me, would be the last time?”

His words blew my mind. Inspired me to try to pick him up on the path where we stood, so that I would without a doubt remember the last time that I held him. But he’s over 6 feet tall, and I’m whimpy and need my back for a few more years so that didn’t work.

I just stood there, a lump forming in my throat.

I couldn’t remember the last time I held him because I probably didn’t realize it would be the final time I’d pull him up off the floor into my arms. He was growing and moving along in life. Holding just naturally transitioned to other expressions of care and affection.

Time goes by so fast, kids grow, momma’s arms get smaller and life never stops.

We’re always moving from stage to stage.

Living from moment to moment. 

His question made me reflect then, and I still think about it now.

I think of other moments that I never knew were ending. Ones more painful than those of a little boy growing up too fast.

The last time my mom would say my name.

The final hugs at our front door with a precious girl we loved.

The tearful kiss left on my Gramma’s cheek in the hospital.

The abrupt end of joy found in a job I adored.

The last conversation with a young friend at church.

The last visit to a place that deeply mattered to me.

I didn’t know those were the lasts.

What would have I done different if I had known?

What would I have said?

Would I have ever been able to let go? 

Every day we live moments that are important to us. We don’t think about moments ending, because we’re too busy living in the moment.

Moments make our life. 

The good moments, the hard moments, the joy moments, the pain moments.

I’ve become a moment hoarder in this season of life. I want them all. I need them all. I don’t want to forget or lose any seconds, or regret what I didn’t do. I want to look back on every tick-tock of the clock as part of beautiful stories written through faithful life-living. Even the moments I never saw coming and didn’t know were ending. Those are the moments when you know how real the love is.  

So I’m trying harder. I’m loving better. Living on purpose.

One day I had my little boy up in my arms, and then I put him down on the floor and I never picked him up again. It’s ok that I never realized that was happening because I likely would have tried to hold on forever.

Everyday our moments change.

Don’t wish them away.

Don’t hold onto them too tight.

Set them down when you must, and pick up the new.

Make them matter because each moment is a gift.

First and lasts.

Beginnings and ends.

Gather them into precious places, write them down in memory ink and impress them onto your heart. Wrap your arms around them and pull them close.

All your moments matter.