This could be the last time

This is a photo of the shadow from a street-lamp, as Leyla sits on my shoulders, as we walk down the road.

Roughly a year ago there was an item on the radio, a guy reading an essay, that really hit a nerve for me. His central point was that we go through life marking and remembering firsts (e.g., a baby's first steps; his/her first words; your first date; the first time you saw the person you ended up married to; the first time you did anything in fact), but we too often totally miss the lasts. That is, just as we often never really know when the last time is that we'll ever see someone until it is too late, so we generally never know when the last time will be that you'll read your kid a story, or hold your kid's hand when you cross the road together, or the last time that they'll call you "daddy" before they switch to "dad" or "Dave".

I've absolutely loved the experience of having little kids, but Leyla is getting too big for me to lift her onto my shoulders; her body is getting too long for my arms to raise her over my head and I struggle to do it in one move now. One day very soon she will simply be too big, and then that will be it. The last time that I walked around with one of my kids on my shoulders will be a moment in the past, and I will have not realised that until it was too late.

So, I took a photo to remind me of how fab it is to have one of your kids ride your shoulders.