I love marking the moments, the ones that count—making a note and storing them for memory. But I often miss out on them when it comes to our oldest.
The day he wanted to be baptized, I was at home with another kiddo who was sick. He called me from church excitedly, emphasizing he was ready and didn’t want to wait. I couldn’t argue with that, so I watched him go underwater through videos my husband and sweet friends in the congregation took.
On the day of his fifth-grade graduation, we found ourselves at the pediatrician’s office. Instead of watching him walk across the stage and get a graduation certificate, we were handed a prescription for amoxicillin.
And then there are moments I didn’t realize would be the last and wasn’t given the opportunity to mark. The year he decided he wasn’t going to play baseball again. And then again, when he chose not to go out for basketball.
Last month, our family spent a few days during fall break riding roller coasters. I’m not as adventurous as I once was and had no plans of riding a particular one. Maybe it was the sugar rush from theme park sweets or mom guilt, but when he asked me to ride it with him, I jumped in line before I could change my mind.
The ride began with a 90-degree climb, and when he looked over at me and saw the terror on my face, he said, “Mom, hold my hand.” I couldn’t remember the last time I held his hand.
Often as moms, we don’t know when many of the lasts will be. The last time we will rock them. The last time we will hold them. The last time they will drink out of a sippy cup or ask us to tuck them in.
It’s true, babies don’t keep. So when given the chance, you spend the $39.99 on the rollercoaster photo/video package and mark the moment so you remember it always.