I have contributed to the demise of the shopping mall with my online shopping habits. In fact, if I were to say to the kids, “let’s go shopping,” they’d probably pull up Amazon and start putting things in the cart. However, there is one shopping trip that we take annually, and that’s back-to-school shopping.

Originally, it started because I had to take the kids to the shoe store to be fitted in person. They’ve always had larger than average feet, and the trial and error of various brands and sizes being purchased online wasn’t worth the hassle. Of course, the hassle of the stores never having the shoes they liked in their sizes was a whole other story. But, anyway, out of this trip grew our annual day out.

Over the years, as all three of them have grown into tall sizes, and ridiculously large feet, I’m grateful that online shopping alternatives exist because we can almost never find things that fit them in stores. That hasn’t stopped my day out with them, though. I am determined to hold on to some traditions, and since this was always “my” day out with them, it doesn’t come with a slew of Steve memories in every corner.

This year’s trip almost didn’t happen. Other than a few folders and a new locker shelf, no one really needed much of anything, but I lured them all into the trip with a promise of eating out and maybe a little bit of guilt tripping, as I reminded them that next year, A would be heading to college, and this was really our last every “normal” shopping trip.

As we got on road, I was reminded how far we’d come since I had to buckle everyone into their car seats and drag strollers and diaper bags with us everywhere. I don’t miss those days. The kids were too young to remember the time that Kate Gosselin and her famous brood disrupted our plans for the day by being at the same shoe store. They didn’t remember much about any of our trips, other than that we do it every year. So much for making valuable memories.

After dinner, G requested to be allowed to go wait out the rest of our visit in the car. I asked him to at least hit up one store with us, and it was a good thing that I did because he remembered that he needed socks and underwear to complete his outfit for one of the spirit week theme days at band camp. Were the underwear really necessary? Of course not, but trust G to carry a theme to its fullest extent. After that, I released him to go nap in the car.

A asked to head to one store, and E asked to be allowed to head off to Bath and Body Works, which gives me a headache. I finally found out why they have all those couches in the middle of the mall. There didn’t seem to be much of a point in fighting with them to all stay together. They all had their own agendas, and I wasn’t in the mood to dampen spirits with fighting and impatience. I mean, this is what I raised them to do, right? Go off into the world and do their own thing?

Eventually, A and E met up with me, and E at least needed me to help her find the restrooms before we headed home. On the way, we had to pass through the “older woman” section of the department store. E joked with me that pretty soon I’d be ready to wear the appliquéd sweatshirts that had been favorites of my grandmother, her GG. She must have sensed that she’s struck a nerve, because she backtracked quickly and said, “no, you would never wear that, you’re much too stylish.”

My fashion sense is debatable, and that wasn’t the nerve that she’d hit. It’s been 11 years since we lost my Gram, who at 89, passed away peacefully after a full life, that included being married to my grandfather for more than 60 years. While I appreciate what they had, I find myself jealous that I won’t have that, and that Steve was robbed of those years. Of course, that wasn’t a conversation I wanted to get into with E right in the middle of the department store, especially not after I’d spent an hour sitting on a bench feeling sorry for myself that the kids had abandoned me. Suffice it to say that would have made our trip memorable for all the wrong reasons, so I just grabbed the gaudiest one and told her to remember it when Christmas rolls around.

As with everything these days, ever pro is a con in its own way. I should be happy that the kids are well-provided for, confident enough to make their way through the mall on their own, independent enough to make their own purchases, resourceful enough to have spent the summer earning their own money to put toward the things they want, and all of that. They are becoming exactly the people that we’d hoped that they’d become. On the other hand, Steve isn’t here to see it, and enjoy it, and without him, it’s hard for me to enjoy any of it.

On the way home, we decided to stop for ice cream, only to discover that the ice cream shop had closed early. This felt pretty typical of the way the day had gone for me. I decided to stop at the grocery store, and instead of making the kids pick just one flavor, I got us each a half gallon of our favorite flavors. I have to say, the kids’ faces lit up when I got in the car with two bags, instead of only one. Once we got home, we all ended up around the kitchen island diving into our dishes, laughing about a pair of rhinestone loafers that A had found that were outrageous, but also would have met stringent dress code restrictions, and the fact that we’d all know G’s underwear were just as festive as the rest of his outfit. G said, “I’m glad they were closed. This is better anyway.” I had to agree.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing columnist who appears weekly in the Times News.