The Firsts of the Lasts

This past weekend began the First of the Lasts. It was the winter musical production of Lumberjacks and Wedding Bells where my son took center stage. As he danced with his theatrical bride across the stage and they sang together, I could feel a bubble in my belly moving its way up inside my throat. In attempt to squelch it, I let out a gasp and squinted my eyes tightly as if the water from my eyes would miraculously push the bubble back down. All in all, I think the technique worked for the most part, but somehow the bubble nicked this mom's heart on the way down. As the final curtain closed that evening, I felt somewhat like I do when playing Pictionary. At the beginning, sand seems to move slowly sifting through the hour glass timer and as it reaches the end of the minute, the upper glass tube appears to shove sand rapidly through the narrowing into the bottom portion of the glass. The game becomes somehow more intense. Performances, musical ensembles, solo contests, piano recitals, year book deadlines and endless friends coming and going. A frazzling and precious time. Just for today I will lay the hour glass horizontally and enjoy the balance.