On This Mother’s Day, A GenX Mom Reflects On All The ‘Lasts’ We Don’t See Coming

As Mother’s Day is here, I cried in the shower the other day. And then again in the parking lot of BTJ’s Jungle. That’s the little neighborhood pet store where, 25 years ago, we went in to buy fish food and somehow came home with a gray cat named Ghost. This was before we had kids, when we were cat-parents of three. The owners of the pet store are retiring, so it’s closing. And It all hit me harder than I expected.

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This was the local store where I’d take my kids to wander when we were broke and bored. They had a large collection of exotic pets, including an electric eel, tortoises, African Grey parrots, plus lizards and snakes that were available for purchase. Sometimes they had baby pot belly pigs in a big playpen, and the kids were allowed to pet them. That’s where my son believes he first crossed paths with one of his closest friends, years before they became friends in middle school.

I vaguely remember seeing a young father with two kids – one around Alex’s age and a toddler, which tracks with the ages of my son’s friend and his little brother. Maybe they did meet. Maybe they didn’t. It’s now part of our household lore.

A leopard gecko named Louie fell in love with my son at the pet store a few years ago, promptly perching on his shoulder when we took him out of the tank. He joined our menagerie of cats and lizards. He’s still around and nothing seems to phase him.

My son turned 15 last month.
My daughter is 17 and getting ready for college.
It’s the end of so many eras, all at once.

My son didn’t want a “party” this year, just four friends (including the one from the pet shop) hanging out at the house.

As I stood in the shower, I cried for all the “real” parties at bounce places, escape rooms, and amusement parks. Tears amplified as a montage of moments – what I hope became core memories for my kids – flooded my mind. The family vacations, their first roller coasters, the chaos, smuggling large bags filled with Easter baskets through hotel hallways because we spent the holidays on vacation and “the Easter bunny will always find us.”

Navigating a double stroller through packed city streets so my toddlers could glimpse the Rockefeller Center tree or the balloons being filled before the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Moving the Elf on the Shelf – every night for a month. All the little kid magic you don’t realize you’re living through until it’s gone.

I know there are older parents reading this saying, “We never did Elf on the Shelf.” But there’s some tradition you had, some small daily or seasonal action, that brought joy to those hectic days. And the last time you did that specific thing, you may have thought there would be another time, one more year of magic.

Parents celebrate milestones, like moving up ceremonies for kindergarten and primary school. While some kids enjoy getting up on stage, singing songs, and receiving their diploma certificates, it’s mostly for the parents. These are tangible lasts. We can mark on a calendar the last time we’ll sit in a school pick-up line or the “last” first day of school.

But there are also the unrecorded lasts.

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Not just holiday traditions, but the last time we’ll read Goodnight Moon before we tuck them in. The last time they beg to be picked up and carried after a long day. The last time they snooze in a stroller during a shopping trip.

With the lasts, come firsts. The first time you drop them off at the mall alone with their friends. The first time they ride their bike to a friend’s house. The first time they teach you how to do something, instead of the other way around.

First college tours. First driving lessons. The first time they drive you someplace. And so many more I’ve yet to experience.

For mothers, as our kids grow up, we experience our own firsts. The first date night without having to hire a babysitter. The first time the house is empty for a weekend because both kids are at sleepovers with trusted friends.

And we realize that day is right around the corner when an empty house will be the new normal. When you’re just starting out as a parent, people say to treasure every moment because it doesn’t last. My husband loves telling new parents: “Take lots of pictures to help you remember. It goes fast.”

But it’s hard when you’re in that moment, buckling car seats, picking up tiny shoes from the hallway, wiping butts and noses, to realize that someday, it will be different. (Well, I’m still picking up shoes – but now they’re bigger than mine.)

I like to think my husband and I were present parents, living in the moment to build those core memories. That doesn’t make it hurt any less when they ended – especially the ones that weren’t marked by milestones.

And so I cried in the shower the other day.

Then I let the water wash away the tears.

Spending the day with mom

A recent survey showed that 89% of moms just want to spend Mother’s Day with their children. But only 28% of adult children polled said they wanted to spend the day with their own mother or mother figure.

I’m lucky in that my teens still spend a day with me when I ask – especially if it’s a good meal at a Brazilian steakhouse, go-karts, roller coasters or shopping is involved. But I understand that may not always be the case, especially if they have kids of their own to celebrate with.

So much of this season of life, especially for mothers, is discovering who we are again. It’s about finding the confidence to push out of our comfort zones and do things we’ve never tried before, whether that’s starting a business or trying a new sport.

That’s why, when the tears subside, I’m able to view this era as a doorway instead of a loss. Motherhood teaches us that every ending, whether we recognize it at the time or not, carries grief, gratitude, and a new beginning.