This time last year, my high school junior stood on the edge of a year of lasts.
Every time I watched friends post pictures of their seniors’ award, their last prom or their graduation, I whispered thanks that we weren’t there yet.
We had one more year.
It was as if all of his 17 years — his infancy and preschool and boyhood – were compressing like an accordion into the one final year at home that stood before us.
How could I make each day count?