Sometimes a Last Time slips by and I don’t even notice.

Like the last time he called me Momma or the last time he held my hand or the last time I carried him upstairs with his little head resting on my shoulder or the last time I slipped in beside him to read before bed.

But sometimes a Last Time stares me right in the face.

Like this night.

His last soccer game.

I couldn’t help thinking about him as a toddler at the park. Toddling along on chubby little legs and dribbling a ball. A woman stopped me to ask, “How OLD is your baby???” because he did look funny dribbling on such little legs.

He had just turned twelve months old.

It seems he grew up with a soccer ball at his feet.

He just LOVED to play!!

But over the years, basketball has taken his heart. And he’s not going to soccer tryouts this year.

This was the Last Game.

I tried hard not to clamp my fist around this realization.

I tried hard to just be present and let the moment wrap around me and settle in.

I noticed his broad shoulders and the way he runs exactly like his dad did on the soccer field.

I tried hard to store it all away…

On our way to the car, I realized his eyes are level with mine now. I listened to his deep voice call out, “See ya!!!” or “Good job!” to his teammates. And I stared for a long time at that same wide smile framed by dimples and a light dusting of freckles…trying to memorize another Last Time moment with my boy.

Last Times always break my heart a little.

But really…it’s only because my heart is SO FULL.