When you are a baby, everything is a “first.” The first time your mother holds you. The first time you smell the fresh spring air. Your first crawl, and then first steps.
Then you become an older child—your first day of school. Then a teenager—your first kiss. And then a young adult—your first job, first home, and first mortgage (!).
What’s really weird is how all these “firsts” eventually wane, and lo and behold, you begin experiencing “lasts.”
I have recently been besieged by a barrage of “lasts.”
Earlier this year we adopted our precious puppy Anderson. I’m hoping he is not my last pet, but he is probably the last pet I will outlive. If he makes it to age 15 or so, which is likely, I’ll be 72 when he passes. To outlive our next dog, I would need to live to age 87 if he or she lives 15 years. Not impossible, but not likely, given that my parents died at ages 67 and 82, and average life expectancy for males is 78.
We recently bought a condo in the Chicago area, so we will be downsizing. It’s a good move for us, and the right time for it. But this condo will certainly be our last house in Chicago. Since we also will likely never move to a different condo in Florida, our move to the new Chicago condo will almost certainly be our last move.
You might think all of this would make me a little sad, and you’d be right. It is sad.
All I or anyone can do is enjoy each of these “lasts,” immerse myself in them, and appreciate my current life.
On the more positive side, along with these “lasts,” my life is getting quite a bit simpler and more peaceful. I’m just going to enjoy that.