Remembering the First of Lasts

My photo frame cycles through photos I’ve put on it for years, and today I’m thinking I need to delete some of the photos.

One that popped up this morning was of eldest Gambaby, decorating the Christmas tree that he and his father put up. I got to photograph them as they decorated it, not knowing that it was the last Christmas they would have together. Today I’m reliving the loss of both my son-in-law and my grandson having to move to another state after his daddy died.

I lived through so many reminders of the “First of the Lasts” and now those once-happy memories are dogging me today. I smile through my tears as I am reminded of how the little one put all the ornaments on the low branches; the ones he could reach, and him being so proud of himself that he was helping his sick daddy. And his daddy giving him hugs, knowing that he would have to relocate a few of the ornaments to higher branches after Gambaby went to bed.

Maybe I won’t delete the “Lasts” after all. They were good memories.