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A man once told me something profound when I was just old enough to understand it. He said something to the effect of this - the first ones are always easy to see and love. The first time you kissed. The first time your team won it all. The first time your child walked or smiled. Those, you have forever, and you keep them where you want them. You have that choice, because you knew exactly what they were when you saw them. Then he talked about lasts. He said that those are the ones that are tough to spot, but, if you do, they are immediately special, even if deeply saddening.
Lasts are particularly hard to see with kids. A few years ago I made it a point when my youngest came to me and wanted to be picked up. I picked her up as I always had and I hugged her much longer than I ordinarily would have. She asked me why I did that. It was my way of making sure that I would always remember the warmth and love I felt when carrying one of my kids around on my hip. It may have been the last time I ever physically carried one of my children. If it wasn't, it was close, and it is a very good memory for me.
Other lasts are even more difficult to spot. I had a dear friendship fade at one point. My friend and I shared many, many enjoyable, hilarious times. I can't remember the last time I saw him or the last thing we did. That just faded away, and the slowness of it prevented any recognition that something was changing, and that another last had passed.
In yet other lasts, the suddenness is jarring, and sometimes depressing. Sometimes gut wrenching. The loss of a loved one. I remember when my grandfather died. I was kid and I was kept in the dark about how bad his cancer was. I thought he'd be home. Then the bomb got dropped on me that he was gone. I don't now remember when the last time was that I walked next to him and heard him sternly warn me that wearing a ball cap would make me bald (he left out that not wearing one was no proof against it!). I don't carry many regrets with me in life. I regret not seeing that a last had gone by and I wasn't even remotely aware of what had moved into my past, never to exist again.
I wrote this because now, given all that is wrong with the team and the coach, the Georgetown game may, ironically and poignantly, prove to be the last time we see the great Jim Calhoun on the sidelines. Perhaps. While I'm sure we'll see him, we may not see him as he was and as we knew him, which is as the force of nature that roamed our sideline for 26 years. Has it been that long? Has the last now passed? If not, I appreciate every game, and this is why I wrote in the other thread that all is really okay, and I'm proud to be a fan, and coach - thank you.
Lasts are particularly hard to see with kids. A few years ago I made it a point when my youngest came to me and wanted to be picked up. I picked her up as I always had and I hugged her much longer than I ordinarily would have. She asked me why I did that. It was my way of making sure that I would always remember the warmth and love I felt when carrying one of my kids around on my hip. It may have been the last time I ever physically carried one of my children. If it wasn't, it was close, and it is a very good memory for me.
Other lasts are even more difficult to spot. I had a dear friendship fade at one point. My friend and I shared many, many enjoyable, hilarious times. I can't remember the last time I saw him or the last thing we did. That just faded away, and the slowness of it prevented any recognition that something was changing, and that another last had passed.
In yet other lasts, the suddenness is jarring, and sometimes depressing. Sometimes gut wrenching. The loss of a loved one. I remember when my grandfather died. I was kid and I was kept in the dark about how bad his cancer was. I thought he'd be home. Then the bomb got dropped on me that he was gone. I don't now remember when the last time was that I walked next to him and heard him sternly warn me that wearing a ball cap would make me bald (he left out that not wearing one was no proof against it!). I don't carry many regrets with me in life. I regret not seeing that a last had gone by and I wasn't even remotely aware of what had moved into my past, never to exist again.
I wrote this because now, given all that is wrong with the team and the coach, the Georgetown game may, ironically and poignantly, prove to be the last time we see the great Jim Calhoun on the sidelines. Perhaps. While I'm sure we'll see him, we may not see him as he was and as we knew him, which is as the force of nature that roamed our sideline for 26 years. Has it been that long? Has the last now passed? If not, I appreciate every game, and this is why I wrote in the other thread that all is really okay, and I'm proud to be a fan, and coach - thank you.
