Today, though, I took some time to think about the "lasts" that we don't expect. The last kiss, not knowing a breakup was coming. The last day you saw her healthy, not expecting a diagnosis. The last time you visited a place, not realizing you would never return. Maybe it's a little sad that it wasn't recognized at the time for what it was. Then again, maybe not. Maybe it's better that we treated that moment normally, so we could remember it how it truly was. It wasn't over-emphasized or forced, it existed in its most natural state.
Does the question of whether or not a last was recognized make difference in its significance? I'm not sure. Either way, it seems, lasts are always something to be remembered.