We all know them. You know, those “firsts” in life that are exciting and as memories repeated through conversations…bragging … .reminiscing…they become milestones that are etched in our minds forever, like photos stored in albums…to be enjoyed for years to come.

With the arrival of September, many of our children and grandchildren have returned to school. Some kids across our nation entered their new grades in mid August, bringing a close to summer days filled with sleeping in after long playful days that stretched into nighttime hours under the glow of countless stars…lightning bugs hovering above lawns…bonfires and smores. 

For me and my husband, this is the first year that all four of our grandchildren will be in their respective classrooms. Our oldest is now in the third grade; her little brother has begun preschool. Our son’s oldest boy, age 4, is enrolled in pre-kindergarten and his little sister, age 3 ½, is also in preschool. To use an old familiar phrase, where has time gone?

The first day of school got me thinking about all the important first things we accomplish in life and though my list is lengthy, it is not by any means exhaustive. There’s my own first day of kindergarten. Though I don’t have vivid memories from that year in 1958, I remember my teacher was Mrs. Glass, who was quite seasoned in her profession and it was a positive year. Except, part of my first day of school included me  thinking I had accomplished the task of going…the second morning mother woke me I resisted quite firmly declaring “I’m not going, I already went”. Never mind I had two older brothers who went off to school every day under my watchful eyes. 

Learning to ride a two wheel bicycle was wonderful. We had over 30 kids in our neighborhood so bikes were plenty; we were always trading and sharing. One of my friends had a small “two wheeler” as we called them which allowed me to get on easily, practice my balance, knowing if I fell over the distance hitting the ground wasn’t too painful. I was so excited that the day arrived when I mastered riding the bike without wobbling…actually applying its brakes by pushing back on the pedals as designed, versus slowing down and jumping off which had been my early practice coming to a stop! With my newfound excitement I told my parents I knew how to ride a two wheeler. Much to my dismay dad wasn’t quite convinced as I begged him to buy me a bike. It took borrowing that friend’s bike and giving him a demonstration up and down the sidewalk in front of our home. I was SO pleased when his earlier suspicions were replaced with shared excitement and soon we made a trip to our local Firestone Store where he happily bought me my “first” two wheeler. It was green and had white wall tires. I became the envy of the neighborhood, now having my own bike to ride–and share.

There are other “firsts” in my life…getting a job after high school graduation–at our local children’s zoo. Enrolling in business college, carpooling for nine months and then landing a full time position with a bank, carpooling again–with dad this time–until he made a phone call to my uncle who was a car salesman. Uncle Rusty found a 1969 Opel, a car he thought would be perfect for a 19 year old. It was. It was bright blue, a two door which made it look quite sporty despite its small engine. I thought I was pretty cool. Until I visited my cousin Jim one day. He had a brand new Firebird and after riding all over Flint with him one afternoon I decided I wanted one, too.

Against my father’s wishes I made the purchase. Since I worked in a bank I had access to the book which calculated monthly payments and laid out a plan to save for my down payment in order to finance the remainder. When the time came, I ordered a 1974 Firebird from the same uncle who found my Opel. It didn’t take long–one spin around the block–and my dad was hooked. He even agreed to be a co-signer on my loan.

“Firsts” can be scary as we face many unknowns in life. They are also exciting and adventurous. Inevitably, they are unavoidable, too. How we approach and embrace every “first” that comes our way depends on how we’re wired…our knowledge of what’s in front of us…maybe influences by others who have gone before us.

I’m happy I learned to ride a two wheeler. I was thrilled the first time I put on ice skates. I was nervous on my first real date with a boy I really liked when we were both in the 11th grade. I didn’t know what to expect with labor pains and I’ll never forget how it felt when the nurse laid our baby girl–our first born–in my arms. Having her cozy up to me all swaddled in a small blanket, her sweet “new baby smell”, made all the memories of well deserved labor pains go away…and I found myself daydreaming of all the “firsts” that would now become her own adventures, me watching from a front row seat to cheer her on at every turn.