The Last First Thing

Mary McWilliams Jones
9/12/1927 - 4/8/2013

Life is filled with firsts. First breath, first word, first step. First day of school, first love and first broken heart. For most of us, the common denominator in many of these things is that our mom shared them all with us.

On April 8, 2013 my family started our journey on our year of firsts without our wife, mom, grandma and grandlady; Mary McWilliams Jones. One of the hardest parts of this past year has been figuring out how to handle all these firsts without the person who guided you through all the others. We were all left here to help each other find our way through these uncharted waters. It hasn't been easy, but we've made it. And I think Mom would approve of the way we've handled most of them. And she wasn't easily impressed.

The day Mom died my youngest, Sam, had his first experience with joy through sorrow when that afternoon I had to call him with the news that his grandma was gone and that night his beloved Louisville Cardinals won the NCAA National Championship. He just knew that grandma had a hand in that. He might be right. Turns out Mom won the family bracket pool that day. Just like the year before.

Just twenty days after mom passed away, Dad had to go through the first wedding anniversary in 68 years without her. A couple days later, Marybeth had her first birthday. We've made it through Mother's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's, family dinners and more birthdays. My daughter, Nicole, was overwhelmed when she received the first birthday card in 31 years that didn't have her grandma's signature.

After fifty two years of general clumsiness and countless flops, I finally managed to break my first bone. The now infamous flip flop incident. I could just see Mom shaking her head and throwing her hands up as if to say "Good Lord, how does a person manage that?"

And so today, we find ourselves facing the last first thing. The first anniversary of the last day we had Mom with us. We know this doesn't mark the end or beginning of anything. Our grief will continue. It doesn't have a time limit. But with each first, we grew a little. We found strength in each other and in ourselves. We will continue to move along through life and handle what comes our way. Mom would expect nothing less.

I'm including a handwritten recipe from Mom below. Short, sweet and to the point. Hope you try it out.