Last Firsts

photo by Mary 2007

"Well, there's a first for everything"  my mother declared as she sealed up a greeting card envelope.

What do you mean, Ma?, I say kinda casually, waiting for her to say something funny.

"It's the first time I signed a card with just Grandma, instead of Grandma and Grandpa".

She catches me off guard and I stop for a second, to process what she had just said.

Because of the "you're not going to believe this" tone of her voice, I thought she was going to say something witty or tell me story.

I didn't fully realize the heaviness in her heart when she said what she had said.

This was just another thing to check off on her list of firsts.

The list that replaced her last list..of lasts.

Since my father's passing in August 2008, we have been through many lasts and many firsts.

We were together as a family, through most of them.

Planning the wake, the funeral, the Mass.

Picking out a plot.

Keeping my father's wish of not being buried near a tree.
The things that you find out about people when choosing burial sites!

These were firsts for all of us.

Sorrowful firsts.

I mentioned, because I live a distance away from my the rest of my family, that I missed the joyful firsts.

Babies being born, first steps, first words, first day of school, first dates.

Yes, e-mail has made the world smaller but, like the song goes, "Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby."

I remember telling my Dad that one time.

That I wished I lived closer for the firsts.

And he told me that he wished he could help me.

And somehow, I'd like to believe that he did just that.

For me...

My Dad's health had been rapidly declining.

Each day was possibly his last day.
And everytime the phone would ring here in NH, I'd swear it was going to be "that call"...
Each day he bravely hung on to live another day.

We all thought the impending arrival of yet another grandson was the reason for his struggle to live another day.


 Unfortunately, he was two days short of the mark.

The night of my father's wake my sister-in-law went into labor.

And on the morning of my dad's funeral.

My nephew was born.

My brother and his wife's first child.

A funeral and a birth on the same day, in the same family.

That must have been a first for a lot of folks.

I know it was for me.

I was happy that I got to hold my beautiful new little nephew, just hours old, in my arms.

These are the firsts that you just want to make last..forever.


The bitter with the sweet.


Thank you Daddy, for giving me the opportunity to be home for my first joyful first.

I'm sorry it took a sorrowful one to make that happen.


I also take it as a blessing to have been with my mom for the first time she signed a card without adding my father's name.

I admired her strength and her bravery for telling me how she felt instead of bottling it up.

I comforted her and told her that "this was the last first time that she would ever have to sign a card with just her name only."

To which she replied. "Now say that 10 times, fast." ;)

The gift of humour.
Fortunately, that is the way we roll...


With holiday seasons coming just around the corner, there will be a lot more firsts.

There will be Christmas cards to send, Christmas cards received from far away friends who aren't quite up to speed on the news.

One less gift to purchase.

One less place at the table.

But we will speak of our father, without effort, as though he were beside us.

We will laugh and recount stories of Christmases past.

"Pictures first, before you open your presents!" was my dad's only request, every Christmas morning.
Did that ever drive us crazy.


Oh, Daddy , we will miss your photo shoots this year.

But we will get through the holidays, together.

Without you.

Lastly,

You will be first in our hearts and in our minds.

We loved you so...T'was heaven here with you while it lasted.


You were the best Daddy ever!

Peace - Rene   ~~~

This was originally a post from 2009, the year after my father's death.
I felt this best fit the Red Writing Hood prompt of finding  joy or beauty in a place where that may be difficult. This is my first submission to The Red Dress Club.