Hold On!

Do you know you’re wearing a pair of underwear for the last time when you put them on in the morning? Or does it take until the “next time” you take them out of the drawer, with their failing elastic and tears around the waistband to throw them out?

What about a pair of socks? How many times after you’ve told yourself, “This is the last time I’m wearing them” do you actually follow through?

Not to worry, I’m not going to share my personal undergarment stories. It was simply something that came into my head recently as I was getting dressed.

And it made me think of the concept of the “last time” we experience moments, milestones or even everyday events in our lives. Again, not to worry, I’m not going down a dark and dreary “end of life” road today. It’s just that “last times” happen all the time, right? And things like pairs of underwear or socks are benign examples; ones we can all identify with.

Maybe you’re different. But when it comes to those things, I’m lazy. I probably wear undergarments for weeks after their viable lifespan has ended. But sooner or later, usually following some level of “uncomfortability” caused by the failing of article of clothing, I take action and throw it/them out.

But let’s look a little deeper, at the things that happen for the “last time” that completely pass us by; life moments that go unnoticed unless someone brings it to our attention.

Like the last time you put down your child and never pick them up again. Kate, our daughter, once asked that classic question, long after our “carrying the kids around” days had ended.

And at that moment, Joanie committed to lift both kids off the floor every time she hugs them hello. And she never fails to do so; in fact, she did it this weekend when they came to visit. (Kate is 30; Will is 25.) I respect that, and the kids appreciate it too.

And that commitment represents the flip side of my inane example. (Remember the underwear?)

Obviously, Joanie’s lifting technique has changed since the kids were toddlers. You can imagine how difficult (and creepy) it would be if she tried to cradle these fully baked adults like infants. It would possibly result in a visit to urgent care for one or more of the involved parties.

Instead, she simply “dead lifts” them (for lack of a better term) as she hugs them hello, their feet never getting more than a couple inches off the ground. It’s brief, painless (I think), and fun; a shtick in which I am an innocent observer, left to wonder why my underwear is bunching or the heel of my sock has failed me (the thin screen of fabric having turned into a small hole because “someone” was too lazy to throw them out and get another pair from the drawer earlier in the day).

And while we’re back to the underwear . . . and socks . . . I feel like, since these items of clothing are generally not seen (in my world anyway) and relatively utilitarian, we might wear them (holes and failing elastic notwithstanding) because we tell ourselves, “Well, no one is going to notice, and I can probably endure one more day with them.” But then I return to the question I ask myself: “How many ‘last times’ do I endure before I finally pull the trigger, thus depriving myself of the comfort and human decency I deserve?”

And unlike lifting our adult kids (or hugging them hello, or saying I love you, or whatever thing you do that makes you and them know you’re still “in it” with them), I think those are the things we need to hang onto, and yet they become the very things we might forget as life goes on.

In other words, in my own confused, circuitous way, I guess I’m wondering two things:

• Why do we hang onto things that no longer serve us? and

• Why don’t we hang onto and cherish those moments that we want to last forever?

So, today I’m asking myself what pair of underwear or socks (metaphorically speaking) have I worn too many times? What is something I’ve neglected to throw away, to put down one last time and never pick up again?

Maybe it’s something as simple as getting rid of worn-out clothing. Or maybe it’s something toxic in my life that doesn’t serve my well-being. And that thing is preventing me from holding onto other things in my life that are meaningful and important to me . . .  and others.

Watching Joanie pick up our kids every time she greets them warms my heart because I can see beyond the action, the “shtick.” I see the love and joy that it brings them, and to me.

And it inspires me to drop some of the things that no longer serve me (the old, worn-out underwear and socks), so that I can spend more time and energy picking up and holding onto the things that make a difference for me, my family and the world around me.

I love the fact that Joanie will continue to lift the kids off the floor every time she sees them. On the other hand, I’m going to be more conscious and aware of the proper time to let go of things, so I can pay more attention to the things and people I need to keep near me.

© 2026 David R. Haznaw