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. ⁣

RELATED: I Missed Her First T-ball Game—And I’m Still a Good Mom

⁣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.⁣

RELATED: I Thought You’d Hold My Hand Forever, My Son

⁣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. ⁣

Originally published on the author’s Instagram page