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By Marie Harrison

For the Clemmons Courier

This week marks the beginning of the end for my son. As he stood on the front steps of our house smiling, albeit reluctantly, for the obligatory first day of school photo, it hit me hard that this is it — his last “first day.” 

I can still vividly remember posing that tiny kindergartener on these same steps with his Spiderman lunchbox in hand, wasn’t that just last year? Somehow in the blink of an eye, the tiny kindergartener has been replaced by a giant young man and I’m not really sure how it all happened so fast. As he begins his senior year of high school, I realize that this is just the beginning of the “lasts.” As the year marches on at what I am sure will be a pace much faster than this mama wants, the “lasts” will begin to pile up. Last cross-country meet, last winter break, last team practice, last day of classes…until it’s the last of the last and he’s completely done. And while I could tell you that I am sad, sentimental and dreading all of the lasts to come, I would also be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I’m excited, joyful and expectant, too. You see, while this year marks the end of this stage of his life, there is still so much more waiting, just around the corner.

Gone are the days of the little boy who carried Buzz Lightyear with him everywhere he went, and in its place is a young man who is thoughtful and respectful. As I stood in the kitchen cooking dinner on that first night of school, my phone rang. Not a telemarketer, not “potential spam,” it was my son, calling to let me know that practice had run over, and he would be just a few minutes late getting home for dinner. How thoughtful. Or as I drove into work this week and my son’s name appeared once again on my phone, “Mom, traffic is really backed up, you might want to take a different route.” How kind. Somehow that sweet little boy with a heart of gold has grown into a really sweet, thoughtful, kind young man with, well, a heart of gold. And I just can’t wait to see all that he is going to do.

It has been such a treasure to have a front row seat and watch this young man grow up and I’m grateful that the ride isn’t over yet. Last first day of high school, yes, but what about the first day of college? Or his first day as a Navy pilot? While I could sit and mourn the “lasts,” I am choosing instead to focus on the “firsts” yet to come. Psalm 127: 3-5 says, “Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.”  Written by King David, in anticipation of all his own son, Solomon, would do, Psalm 127 seems to understand that these tiny babies we are gifted are not meant to stay tiny babies. Children are like arrows. Not meant to be stored and held on to, rather, meant to be trained and raised up and sent out into the world. Children are a gift, a reward, but they are not meant to be kept solely for us.

If you find yourself on the precipice of a monumental year – last year of elementary school, or last baby in preschool, I want to encourage you to focus not on the “lasts,” but instead on the “firsts” yet to come. Each and every day is a gift from God, full of new blessings, new beginnings, new “firsts” And as parents, we should take comfort in knowing that the best is yet to come. These children we have nurtured and cared for, from tiny infants to grown men and women, are arrows. Not meant to sit at home under our watchful eyes, but instead meant to be sent out into the world to do great things. And while it’s okay to be sad and miss the days gone by, I’m going to try my hardest to cherish this year and celebrate the “lasts” while waiting expectantly for the “firsts.”  I have no doubt that my son, and all these young “arrows” in the class of 2025, are going to fly high and do great things, and how awesome it is that we as parents get to stand by and cheer them on.