For each of us and for everything, there is going to be, and maybe already has been, one last time for everything that means anything.
Forgive me if I come across a little morbid again. I’m sitting in my empty house – my daughter boarding at the school, and my bride on a week long retreat, leaving me to consider the quiet, and I’m already missing her (it’s been two hours).
And then that thought came to me – there WILL be one last time. One last day, and we don’t know when it will come. And our lives go spinning on, and for the most part, we do our duty of state, pray and worry, not really considering this truth.
A long time ago, Melissa and I made a decision to always kiss each other good bye whenever one of us left the house. It doesn’t matter if we’re leaving town, or running to the store. I never want the last time to happen without a goodbye kiss.
But there’s so much more if you think about it.
We get into our daily lives and lose total sight that one of these days, that kiss, or touch, or embrace will be the last one we share with our spouse.
The love letter, or card, or some little gift just because will be the last one you receive, or give.
No, I don’t think we need to walk around in a state of panic that maybe it’s now, or now, or now.
But I, for one, don’t consider often enough that there will come a day, certainly sooner than I want, that this ‘one last time’ has happened.
The beginning of the week seems like a perfect time to take a minute or two and consider things like this.
Sunday is usually less hectic, at least for some part of it, and even if it’s for a few minutes at Mass, consider that maybe, perhaps, this week could be the last time we will be able to demonstrate love for our spouse, and choose to show love, and then do it sometime during the week
What if you knew that the next time you held or touched or loved your spouse it would be the last time?