Birthdays are mile markers in our lives. Matthew’s recent 13th birthday proved to be no less significant and served as a reminder that part of celebrating the first things in life is appreciating the “lasts”.

We have a tradition of taking the kids out for a birthday dinner. This usually involves them choosing the restaurant and us secretly arranging some form of public spectacle of cake, candles and an entire restaurant of people singing “Happy Birthday” to them. Matthew’s upcoming 13th birthday and transition to becoming a teenager would be no different.

This year he chose the Hibachi Grill near our house. The sights, sounds, smell and entertainment always captures his attention. In fact, we all enjoy the experience especially watching the kids attempt to catch flying zucchini in their mouths while the adults have zake shot at them from 6 feet away!

As we finished dinner, the waitress surprised Matthew with a special dessert and a big firework like candle. As the restaurant sang “Happy Birthday”, I watched his expression. His joy, his excitement, his innocence and his free spirit. Even the “birthday crown” didn’t make him self conscious. He simply smiled, laughed and savored the moment …same as I did.

As we finished dinner, I said, “Hey Matt, let’s go get your last cookie.”

“What?”, he asked.

“You know, at Hannaford (grocery store in Northeast). Tomorrow you will be 13 so this is your last chance,” I said in a persuasive tone.

He smiled and reluctantly agreed. Off we went.

First some background…

When the kids were young and my daughter was still in high school, we would make grocery shopping at Hannaford a family affair. Armed with our paper “list”, now a digital app, we would divide and conquer. As the kids have grown, their efficiency and accuracy in getting the items assigned to them as well as the speed at which they do it, has consistently improved over the years. But one “ritual” always slowed down the process. A ritual I have recently come to appreciate even more and one I will never forget now that Matthew has turned 13.

You see, as soon as we would enter the store, Matthew would make a b-line for the bakery counter. On top of the glass counter sat a see through container filled with sugar cookies. Now, these were not your ordinary sugar cookies. These were “FREE and reserved for kids 12 and under only” as the posted sign asserted.

Initially, the counter was too high and he would ask “Dad, can I have a cookie?” I always replied the same way. “Of course” and I would hand him one.

Eventually, he was able to reach the container and would take a cookie by himself. Each time I would read the inscription aloud:

“Free cookies for kids 12 and under”, and would joke with him that soon, he won’t be able to have those cookies.

He would laugh and say “That’s ok. I can have them now! To bad you can’t have any!”, taunting me with the cookie.

Back to the story…

As we exited the car and walked towards the Hannfords, I was almost in slow motion. The feel and smell of the brisk winter night (Matthew was born in January), the sound of the wind blowing gently through the trees and the sight of his silhouette as he walked slightly ahead, no longer a child but not quite a man.

As we entered the store, he paused and cautiously looked around.

“I hope no one sees me doing this”, he mumbled.

Then he went straight towards the bakery counter as he had done hundreds of times before. Standing almost 5’9” inches tall he easily reached into the container and I re-read the sign aloud one last time:

“Free cookies for kids 12 and under”, I said with a sentimental tone.

The container of cookies was almost empty. In fact, only 1 cookie remained…symbolic of the end of this stage of life with his “last cookie” waiting for him.

As he reached in, memories of the last 13 years flashed through my mind. From sitting in a stroller and watching me retrieve the cookie for him to him being able to reach the counter and grab a cookie himself…and before I could say anything, he reached into the container and was about to eat the cookie.

“Matt, WAIT, hold on!”, I said. “I want a picture.”

His body expression said it all.

Really? Of what? Me eating a cookie?”, he said sarcastically with a smirk.

“Not just a cookie. Your LAST FREE cookie.” Tomorrow you will be 13…no more FREE cookies.” I said.

“OK. Hurry, before someone sees me doing this”, he grumbled.

<Click. Click. Click.>

3 pictures. I got it. Done.

He quickly gobbled down the cookie and said with a smile on his face, “Let’s Go!” and briskly walked towards the door.

That was it. The moment and “last” cookie was over.

Our lives are filled with many moments. Those that come “first” have a tendency to be celebrated, photographed and remembered like our first car, our first love, our first job, our child’s first step and even your first birthday as a teenager. These mark the beginning of the next phase of life, full of excitement for the future and what lies ahead but can easily overshadow the amazing journey that has already unfolded. Where we have been. What we have completed. Where we are today. Who we are today. Right now. This moment. Sometime “last” can be even better then first…

What “last’s” are unfolding right now that you maybe overlooking? Sometimes it is as simple as a last “FREE” cookie, a last birthday crown or a last family shopping trip that can remind us of the importance of being present and savoring our “lasts”. #CelebrateLasts

With the holidays upon us and the year coming to an end, a much overdo trip to see my mom before Christmas reminded me to be mindful of the things that drive me in life…

As an adult, I don’t get back to my childhood hometown during the Christmas season much anymore. Thankfully, this year the scheduling worked out, so my son Matthew and I decided to drive down and surprise my mom, spending a night with her in the house I grew up in.

That night at bedtime, we headed down the hallway to the bedroom I had slept in as a child. Memories flooded my mind of the years spent there and the time that had passed since I was still a “believer” during this time of year. We changed, brushed our teeth, climbed into bed and began chatting about growing up in this room and what life was like “back then”. We had never done that before, so I seized the moment to share a part of me he would have otherwise never known.

As we both began to tire, he asked me “what time are you getting up tomorrow?”

“Normal time”, I said.

“5am on a Saturday…why?!?” he exclaimed.

I paused. Thought for a second and said…”I like being up early, it gives me a chance to think and I love being here.”

He shrugged, smiled like I was crazy and said “goodnight” as he rolled over.

As I laid there, I listened to the sounds of the house and stared at the ceiling as I had done thousands of times as a child. Where had the time gone? How did I get here? Was I really almost 50 with 2 kids, a wife and a “ceiling” of my own? Thoughts of the past, present and future gently filled my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

The morning came quick. In fact, the alarm didn’t even get a chance to go off. I was already awake…4:45am. My mind seemed to be tugging at my body like a child with a parent on Christmas Day morning. An excitement seemed to be “brewing” inside me.

I got up, got dressed, and wandered down the hallway…just like I had done so many years before. The house was still quiet. I was the only one up. Walking down the hallway again continued the avalanche of childhood Christmas memories. The house. The decorations. The presents. The family members no longer with us. Even the silence. It seemed like yesterday as the memories pulled me back to a simpler time, a time where my future was ahead of me and my dreams were just beginning to take shape.

As much as nostalgia had gotten me up, it was the “thought” of coffee that further directed my steps. So into the kitchen I went, straight for the coffee machine. Eight scoops, twelve cups of water and 10 minutes later, the house was full of the aroma of coffee (old school, no Keurig here!). I poured a big cup, went into the living room and sat in my favorite spot as a child.

“Ahhhh…nothing like a real cup of coffee at moms,” I thought.

As I inhaled the aroma and sipped the coffee, I looked out the big bow window into the dark countryside. My thoughts began to wander to this past year. The ups and downs. The struggles and victories. The growth of my children, the obstacles we had overcome as a family and the strength of my marriage. God had certainly been faithful. Now with perspective looking back, it was clear it had been an amazing year, and to Matthew’s question that previous evening regarding getting up early, “this was why I was up at 5am”: To think. To reflect. To be grateful. And to “brew” my plans for the upcoming year.

Suddenly, a faint sound caught my attention. It was my mom, now 72, shuffling down the hallway.

“Good morning,” she said in a whisper.

“Morning mom,“ I answered. “Why are you up so early?” I asked.

“Coffee. I smelled coffee and I wanted to spend time with you,” she said softly.

“Sit, I’ll grab you a cup,” I said.

As the sun slowly started to rise on that 6 degree winter morning, we reminisced and talked about the past, the present and our dreams for the future. We hadn’t done that in years. A special moment I would forever be grateful for…who knows how many more Christmases we would have together.

Soon, the house was filled with the sounds and laughter of others. I was glad I had gotten up “early as usual”, not only to reflect on my life but to spend alone time with my mom. She had unknowingly given me a new perspective when I asked her “why are you up so early?” Her response of “coffee and to spend time with you” got me thinking about my intentions each day, the goals I have set and what drives me to “get out of bed”. Coffee now became my metaphor for having a clear purpose in life that directs my steps and gets me up each day. I thanked her for her inadvertent wisdom and inspiration for this year end blog post, but most of all for her love.

As you approach the new year and your future, what dreams or fears are driving you? What inspires you to get out of bed each day? What’s the purpose that is “brewing” inside you like childhood excitement on Christmas morning?

In other words, what’s your “coffee”?