If you ask my husband, kids or my own mother what my favorite color is, they'll all quickly proclaim: HAPPY GREEN!
I've got a HAPPY GREEN Columbia rain jacket that I love.
(It's even reversible! Inside is off-white. Super investment!)
This HAPPY GREEN long sweater was featured in an online Facebook promotional ad at our local consignment shop. There wasn't a size listed, but I took one look at it and asked my father in law if he could watch the boys for a few minutes so I could "go run an errand". I walked into the store and announced, "I need to know what size it is because if it's my size, I'm certain it needs to live in my closet!" Luckily for me, it WAS MY SIZE and I wear it often. I don't care if the color is last year's color. It makes ME happy!
On a whim, my mom recently bought me a HAPPY GREEN SCARF:
Many of the kids at my elementary school know that my favorite color is HAPPY GREEN because I've got a happy green water bottle that they help me keep track of:
I've had this happy green mug for many years. I believe I got it prior to becoming a mother or shortly thereafter so, this ceramic vessel of transporting steamy, hot goodness has been a part of my life for about eleven years. It greets my mornings with a warm HELLO.
Sadly, I recently noticed that this cup (that brings me happiness) is chipped and likely won't last a whole lot longer. Thinking about the potential last time got me thinking about other LAST TIMES.
I didn't know that the conversation about wanting to be treated the way I deserved to be treated was the last time I'd ever speak to my (ex)brother in law.
I didn't know that my last time breastfeeding my firstborn would be a few short hours before sliding into a MRI tube that confirmed my recent onset of nystagmus was, in fact, related to my multiple sclerosis (MS).
With every MS flare, I wonder if I've experienced the last time I walked without a limp. Thankfully, so far, my gait has returned to normal. In fact, now that I'm making myself a higher priority on the totem pole, I actually feel stronger than I have in years.
I didn't know that our family dinner taking my grandmother out of the nursing home to eat in a family favorite restaurant would be the last time I'd eat with her before Alzheimer's claimed the rest of her mind and her life.
I remember hearing my youngest say BULLDOZER in a sentence and mourning the loss of him calling it a bull-da-BO-zer because that extra syllable had been with him for so many years. None of us knew that the last time would be the last time he said that silly word.
As the March calendar creeps closer, I know that I've got just three and a half more months of sharing the same school as my second-born son and that our last hallway hug truly IS fast-approaching. Next year, both of my boys will attend the intermediate school together, while I remain an aide at the elementary school that we've all now shared.
As my kids get older, I'm starting to wonder when the last time is that they'll want to cozy up close in the recliner to read a book. When's the last time they will ask to sleep in the king size bed with their dad on their respective snuggle nights. I'm wondering how long before we're asked to drop them off a few blocks away from their destination so they aren't too embarrassed to be seen with us.
My fifth grader still jumps up and wraps his strong legs around my waist, but I wonder how much longer we'll enjoy that embrace, knowing that the last one is coming In fact, reflecting back, neither son has asked for a piggy back ride for a really long time. Perhaps, the last one has already happened.
My heart melted into a tiny puddle a week or so ago when I was lying on the floor stretching and my boys asked if I could fly them on my legs like an airplane. This is something we've done countless times as I had been a stay at home mom for the first half of their lives. They are almost nine and eleven. I know the last time 'to fly' is coming.
Sometimes, I just wish time could just SLOW DOWN.
Until then, I'm planning to savor every moment and enjoy life in small sips, until the last time arrives.








