As my last semester at BU reaches its midpoint, I’ve realized how many “lasts” have quietly passed without me even knowing it.
There’s this weird moment that happens every now and then when you’re scrolling on TikTok: a fun little dose of nostalgia. You see an ad, a song, or even a snack you haven’t thought about in years, and suddenly, all your senses are teleported back to some specific moment.
A week ago, I got to enjoy this emotional heart attack when, on my For You Page, buried between cheeseboard videos and sped-up movie clips, I saw a video of these yogurt bites called Yogos, which were discontinued back in 2010. I can still remember the taste of them so well, but the last time I would’ve had them was over 15 years ago. Being reunited with a memory that old is definitely an experience. I can’t even remember when or where I last had them. I just remember being in elementary school, opening my lunchbox, and seeing them next to the Bagel Bites my mom packed.
That small moment made me realize something else: As hard as I try, I can’t remember the last time my mom packed me a lunch for school, let alone what she would have packed. Given that I’m 22 years old and live in my own apartment now, there’s a good chance she never will again, at least not in the way she did when I was a kid.
It’s not really a sad realization, though. Nostalgia and I, like many, have this fun little love-hate relationship. It’s beautiful, but also the worst thing on Earth. This realization was just a quiet one. Time moves forward whether we notice it or not, and somewhere between growing up and getting older, I stopped realizing when I was doing something for the last time.
Sometimes I’ll walk past a playground in my hometown and think, “When was the last time I actually went down a slide, or let alone went to a park?” I can’t remember.
Now, a few months away from finishing my degree, I still feel like I blinked and suddenly ended up here.
It’s interesting when you think about it; I used to imagine that being an adult, not the 18 or 19-year-old kind where you think you’re grown but really aren’t, would feel completely different – like there’d be one clear moment when everything changes.
But it’s so much more subtle than that. I lived in the same house as my brother for 15 years, and he looked exactly the same. And then, after my first visit home from college, he’s suddenly 6 feet tall and shaving in the morning. One day, I was waking up at 6:15 a.m. to catch the bus and sit in the same class with the same people I’d known for years. And the next, I’m submitting my intent to graduate so I can walk across a stage for my degree alongside thousands of other people, the majority of whom I’ve never met.
So, I guess you never really know when something is for the last time. Most people may not even think about it. And that’s both a little bittersweet and kind of beautiful. So take this as a small reminder to look around every once in a while. To appreciate what’s in front of you, no matter how routine or fleeting it seems.
You never really know when it’s your last time doing something, and that’s exactly why it’s worth noticing while you still can.
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