One of the most heartbreaking things about being a parent is that you almost never know when the ‘lasts’ are happening.
‘Firsts’ are usually highly anticipated and thoroughly documented: first day of school, first lost tooth, first steps, first word.
But with ‘lasts’, you generally don’t realize it was a last until it’s too late: last time they ask to hold your hand, last time they want you to sing them lullabies, last time they giggle at that silly voice you do.
My kids are still pretty small, but now and then I fall into the trap of worrying that I’m not enjoying it enough. Did I appreciate that afternoon at the playground? Did I listen to that rambling story? Did I watch them closely enough as they played together? Or was I mentally absent, thinking about what’s for dinner, or what I’m going to write about for my next blog post?
Of course, if you’re paying close enough attention to question whether you’re missing out on something, that probably means you’re not missing out on it. You kind of have to be present in order to wonder whether you’re present. If that makes sense.
As my kids grow up, I’m going to try to avoid the nostalgia trap. After all, if you spend all your mental energy worrying about what you’ve missed, isn’t that pulling your mind away from that ever-fleeting present?
Easier said than done, I know. But as much as possible, when I suddenly realize that one of those ‘lasts’ has come and gone, I’m going to tell myself that it wasn’t the end of something I’ve missed, but the beginning of something I’m about to enjoy.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. Although it’s got the mournful, thoughtful feel of a typical end-of-album track, it’s the opening song on this EP. (Incidentally, it’s also the opening track on Bonobo’s Late Night Tales compilation.) The beginning of something listeners are about to enjoy.
2. The tempo is loose, speeding up and slowing down as it pleases.
3. On the song’s last chord, instead of including a major or minor third and ending on a definitively happy or sad note, O’Halloran leaves us hanging on a perfect fourth. Open-ended and non-committal.
Recommended listening activity:
Making a sandwich with two end-pieces of bread.