Lasts by Elaine H. Baldwin
One aspect of this wedding planning thing we didn’t realize would be so relentless was the amount of shipping that would take place. We’ve shipped everything from jewelry to sparklers to programs to favors to photo books to flowers. And we’ve been doing so pretty much weekly since January. Amazon, Shutterfly and Oriental Trading Company are my new best friends.
Some of the massive shipping is because the long distance planning piece of this wedding, but anymore with Internet options, shipping is a factor that needs to be considered in any wedding scheme and budget.
And speaking of shipping, one of the first of several “lasts” happened today.
Today I shipped the last boxes of wedding stuff to Valerie. A box of homemade wedding mints, a precious photo of my deceased parents and a box of everything else I forgot are on their way to Arkansas. It was a surreal moment to realize that all the hard work was winding down and will soon culminate in the wedding vows of my precious daughter and her fiancé .
But another last snuck up on me and it took my breath away. It was in the simple task of filling out the mailing address on the third box. For the last time I wrote down my daughter’s name…her Baldwin name. After March 21st, any letter or box I send, I will be addressing my daughter with her married name AND that is awesome!
God is so very good to give her this blessing called marriage and to a man who loves Jesus and loves her so much. She’ll always be a Baldwin, but soon she’ll have her own Valentine family and that is a very precious thing.
Since sending off those boxes today, this Mother of the Bride has dabbled in a little bit of precious remembrances of other lasts in her baby girl’s life.
The last time I held a bottle to her tiny lips.
The last pink onesie sold at the garage sale.
The last time she jumped down from the high chair.
The last time I rocked her to sleep.
The last time I put her on a school bus.
The last time she used training wheels.
The last time I listened to her AWANA verses.
The last time she let me put a perm in her hair!
The last time she put on catcher’s gear.
The last time I bandaged a knee.
The last time I sat in the gym bleachers.
The last time she let me in the Macy’s changing room.
The last time she let me help with her homework.
The last time I inspected her “clean” bedroom.
The last time I stayed up late until she came home from hanging with friends.
The last time I grounded her and took away her car keys.
The last time I drove her to the horse barn.
The last time we talked all night about stupid boys and life dreams.
And the last time we cried together about growing up and God’s unyielding faithfulness.
Lasts are not to be feared. They are simply transitions to the next God has for us. And this Mama is already celebrating the next He has for my daughter in 10 short days!