Firsts

Firsts are always exciting. And when you reach a certain age, you begin to realize that you don't have many "firsts" anymore.

There were plenty of great "firsts" when I was younger: first time I rode my bicycle without the training wheels, the first time I rode on a school bus, first time I mowed the lawn, first time I fell off my bicycle and skinned my knees, first time I ever held a baby...lots of firsts. As I've grown older, the "firsts" have become fewer and fewer.

I remember in my twenties when I "first" realized that my "firsts" were dwindling. I was a bit sad about it at the time. Seems silly now that I'm well into my forties to think that I thought my twenties were the end of my "firsts," but at the time, I remember thinking "I need to have a "first."

When I was about 22, a friend of mine was about to open his "first" restaurant. He had invited friends and family to stop by the day before the grand opening to celebrate. As everyone was sitting at a small group of tables talking and listening to music, I began to look around the room. Everything was pristine. There were no stains on the table clothes, no cigarette burns in the carpet, no finger smudges on the jukebox. That's when I got the bright idea that I wanted to be the first person to sit at every booth and every table.

I quietly slipped away from the group and began sitting in every chair and booth in the room. I was about one third of the way through the room, and thinking I was pretty clever to have thought of this, when someone noticed me. I looked up to see everyone staring at me, smiling that nervous smile that says "she looks normal but what in the world is she doing...and is she dangerous?" My friend, the new owner, shouted over the loud music and asked me what in the world I was doing. Without breaking my rhythm I replied, "I'm sitting in every one of your chairs. I want to be the first."

When I had accomplished my goal of sitting everywhere there was a seat, I rejoined the group. Sure, I got some razzing, but it didn't bother me. I had made my own first and I was happy. I even heard a couple of people say they wish they had thought of that.

Okay, so that wasn't the greatest story every told. It was no Wright brothers at Kitty Hawk or first man on the moon, but it leads me to this: This is my first ever blog and at the ripe 'ol age of 47, it feels pretty good to have a first.

I don't know where this will take me. I don't know how often I will post. I don't even know what I'll post. I just know that I want to be an encouragement to whomever happens to stumble upon my little blog. I want everyone who spends a few minutes with me and my thoughts to feel a little better than they did before they read it.

So, here's to firsts! And to those willing to join me on this, my FIRST blog!

Happy First Day!

N-Joy!