A Word About Firsts,…

Life in all its complexities and nuances is crowded with occasions we call ‘first times.’ 

My life began, almost certainly, with a crying episode. (Although I don’t recall it, I must have been absolutely squalling,)
The first time I ever took a breath.
The first time I ever got smacked on my behind,
As some doctor I’d never met before,
Held me up to a world I’d never been to before,
And said, “Welcome to humanity.”

I’d never been welcomed to humanity before. And I’d never cried, before, either.
Very first time for both things.

A friend gave us some persimmons the other day. I love persimmons, now.
But the first time I ever tasted one?
I remember it well.
My cousin, Billy Chilton, who lived in the country,
Thought it would be hilarious to watch a kid from the city,
Take his very first bite of a green persimmon.
I know it was hilarious for my cousin. But for me? Not so much.

I remember the first time I ever tasted coffee, too.
And I wondered who in their right mind could ever like something that bitter?
But I drink coffee, first thing every morning, now,
Because my life is still filled with first things.

I remember the first girl I liked in the second grade.
And the first job I ever got paid for.
(My mom gave me jobs, like taking out the garbage,
But she never thought taking out the garbage should warrant any paycheck,
So I can’t remember the first time I had to take out the garbage. But it was a lot!)

I remember the preaching of the first sermon I ever delivered.
(I don’t remember the sermon; just the preaching, which was pretty sad.
I tried my best not to make the people who were listening too sad,
But I could tell by the expressions on their faces: they were pained, as they sat listening to the first sermon I ever tried to preach)

The first time I kissed my wife.
The first time I looked through a hospital nursery window at my first-born son.
The first fish I ever caught. (A bluegill in a farm pond. My dad put the worm on my hook.)

Lot’s of firsts I can’t remember, of course.
First time I ate ice cream?
First time I tasted a lemon?

I don’t remember the first words I ever spoke, even though I was there.
And for a certainty, I won’t remember the last words I will speak, either, even though I’ll be there.

Just as certainly as there was a first word … there will be a last.

My life has included an incredibly long list of first time things.
But, today, I was also somewhat struck with an equally challenging idea:
My life also includes a number of last time things. Funny thing about last times—they happen quietly, without fanfare, and we don’t realize they’ve occurred until they’re long gone.

There’s a good chance I won’t know it when I’m doing something important for the last time. I need to pay more attention when I tell people ‘Good-bye,’ this week, I think, just in case … well, you know.

 

“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.” — Ephesians 5:15-16 (NIV)