I can still picture a moment now from about ten years ago or so in London.
Dan was first to board the tube, and I herded the kids in behind him and then hopped on as the closing doors grazed my backpack and the British voice on the overhead speaker bellowed, “Mind the gap!”
The kids settled into seats, and I turned to Dan, who was standing in the aisle, holding on to a pole and studying Google Maps on his phone.
“What’s our stop?” I asked.
“Canary Wharf.”
I watched the overhead digital train map and counted the stops: London Bridge, Bermondsey, Canada Water, then Canary Wharf.
As we pulled away from Canada Water, I made eye contact with each of the kids, one at a time, and mouthed: “Next stop.”
All three nodded back at me in succession as they grabbed their backpacks and straightened their backs in preparation for the quick hop off. As our family filtered through the onslaught of passengers coming and going, Dan led the way, and I brought up the rear. Together, we hemmed the kids in and kept them safe.
This scene was typical of our family life as our kids were growing up.
We were present. We prioritized family and togetherness. We took our kids on adventures. The family formation was always the same whether we were on a bike path, a hiking trail, or a busy city street: Dan, at the head of the pack, was the trip planner and navigator. The kids were in the middle. I hemmed in the line at the back, acting as the rear guard to ensure no one was lost or left behind. We enveloped our kids with safety, protection, and love.
I cherished my spot in the back of the line where I had the best vantage point to take it all in as I watched my favorite people and counted my blessings.
On our many adventures, strangers on buses or footpaths encountering our family would strike up a conversation and encourage me to “cherish the moment.” If I had a nickel for every time someone told me this when my kids were little, I could’ve probably used the earnings to put one of them through college.
These strangers had a vantage point, not from the back, but from the future. One where there are no sticky hands that need to be held and no little ones to keep track of, but one where there is also a lot less energy, joy, and wonder. They’d give anything to teleport back in time just to savor the moment with their own kids a little longer.
There were certainly times on those family adventures when I wasn’t cherishing the moment. Being in the back of the family line was stressful, particularly in busy cities: making sure no suitcases got stuck in the gap as we were boarding the subway and counting heads regularly to make sure no kid got lost in the shuffle of a crowd. The constant vigilance was not something I necessarily enjoyed, but I cherished the little people I was looking out for.
Now that two of my children are legal adults and the “baby” is in her last year of high school, it’s harder to coordinate our schedules for family adventures. The kids often travel on their own or with friends now. One big kid is living abroad this year. Another is planning his wedding. The third just paid her enrollment deposit for a college out of state. Times are changing, and the family order is changing, too.
We made a trip in the spring of 2025 to visit my older daughter who was studying abroad in London. She controlled the schedule and the navigation, and Dan fell to second place in line. It was strange, yet beautiful, for us all to follow her lead.
On a recent trip to New York City, my son took over both my rear guard position and Dan’s navigation role. My son plotted the routes and counted the stops. He waited for the rest of us to hop on the subway, making sure no one was struggling to get a suitcase on the train. As we approached our stop, he’d catch my eye, nod, and mouth to me, “Mom. Next stop.”
He was taking care of me.
The family roles and the family formation had shifted.
All those strangers were right: the time went by so quickly, and I can’t get back the time that is gone. The moments were precious and fleeting. Our family roles are changing, and the five of us are about to become six.
But I like these changes. I like these young adults that my kids have become and are becoming. I couldn’t love my future daughter-in-law any more. Those long-gone days were the best days, but these are the best days too.
I don’t know what the future holds. I’m expecting there will be many more wonderful days but also grief and heartbreak mingled in, as life goes. For now, I’m counting my blessings and cherishing the moment, even as I wait for the next big shift.
Beautiful and straight to my heart. Our son will turn 50 in a month and our daughter lives in England, so "family time" has evolved into a WhatsApp family chat with hilarious exchanges, FaceTime, I85 drives to our son's house, and cross-Atlantic flights to Merrie Olde England. Yet it works. And we marvel that both children are independent, strong-hearted, fantastic adults.
Love your story!! It is so true and if only we could go back in time I would appreciate it more and love them more for who they would one day become. Do you realize Tommy will be 40 on Sept 1st. Oh where has time gone. It’s funny because Tim NEVER let anyone watch the boys except you and Tyler. You guys were the only ones he ever trusted <3