Yesterday I experienced the first of many lasts. My brother is leading a medical mission team to El Salvador in June, and this was my last time to see him before we leave for Zambia. He and his wife live in Missouri, but drove to Tulsa and met us for a final meal and our goodbyes. Our conversations centered upon our medical mission trips. This will be his first, so we were glad to give him advice about the dos and don'ts. We took lots of pictures and joked around in our usual lighthearted way. But then the time came for the final hugs and goodbyes. Swirling through my head was the thought, "When will I see you again?" I reminded myself that we never really know when we will meet again. Then we climbed into the car, waved one more time, and turned to face the road ahead. The first of many lasts left a gentle ache, and we traveled on.
Linda
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I was thinking the other day while I was driving in Edmond about "The First of the Lasts" you have written about. I thought that some of these things could be a joy to know they would be your last. Such as to much traffic, rude drivers, and lines that are too long.
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