The finish line is in sight.

The first of three high school senior years is almost over.

I think this may have been the most challenging year since the very beginning of motherhood. I’m even going to place this one over the year that we lost Steve, but only because this year was still all the pain and grieving that goes along with losing him combined with the stress, anxiety, and yes, joy, that has come along with the end of A’s high school career.

Since I have two more of these to survive, I thought I’d take a few minutes to write future me a note on things I need to remember, things I wish I had known, and how I think my kids can benefit from a better two and four years from now.

If, along the way, they either remind you of your own experience, or help you prepare for an upcoming one, well, that’s a bonus.

I wish I had started asking the “question of 5” a lot sooner. “Will this matter in 5 minutes, in 5 hours, in 5 days, in 5 weeks, in 5 months, in 5 years?”

There have been a lot of moments this year, when both A and I were pretty overwhelmed, either by the sheer amount of work that needed to be done, or by conflicting and changing deadlines. (I’m looking at you, FAFSA!)

Being older, wiser, and having survived high school and college, I had a little different perspective on what A’s priorities should be, and while I didn’t want him to miss out on some quintessential senior year activities, he also needed to get his college applications completed.

Getting those done well would matter a lot more in 5 years than participating in just one more extracurricular activity. I wish I had set stricter boundaries, and put my foot down a little sooner. While I can say “all’s well that ends well,” since he did get into the college he wanted to, it could have been a lot less stressful of a process.

In hindsight, I know that his anger with me for forcing that decision would have blown over a lot sooner than the weeks of trying to play catch up and coming down to the wire on submissions.

A did do a pretty good job of asking people to complete his letters of recommendation with plenty of time to spare, so that’s something that I need to remember to get the other two moving on early as well.

As a coach, I get asked to write a lot of letters myself, and while I don’t mind trying to write one at the last minute, because I do understand the stress kids are under, if someone asks me for one early, I will have a lot more time to spend providing evidence to support my recommendation and it will be a lot less generic than if I have to get it in under the wire.

Most of his recommenders were happy to share their letters with them, and A was both appreciative and humbled by the kind words that they had for him.

In the future, when asked to write a letter, I’m going to give them back to the kids to read. I don’t know if it will have as profound an affect as it did on A, but there is something to be said when a kid finds out how much an adult believes in them.

One of the things that seems to be a common theme in school’s acceptance criteria this year is community service.

Now, of course, this will probably change in another year or two, because even within this application cycle, the requirements were a moving target, but regardless, I think it’s important that kids get involved with some type of service.

As we were reviewing some of A’s essay questions, or even some of the “fill in the blanks” stuff on the common app, I noticed some key activities were missing. “Why didn’t you include such and such,” I asked him. His answer, more than once, was, “That’s just something I do, it’s not really a thing.”

A has always been tough on himself and asking him to “sell” things like his good grades, his volunteerism, and his involvement in many activities when they were “just things he does” was a challenge.

I wish I had let him feel a little bit more accomplished about these things as they were happening. While I don’t think he ever looked on most of these things as chores, I just don’t think he has taken enough pride in where his hard work has gotten him.

Learning how to support appreciation of accomplishments while not allowing the laurels to be rested on too much is something I need to do better with as G and E come up through this process.

I want to remind myself to enjoy this process. This was a time for A to take stock of what he has accomplished, and to really take his first steps in working to achieve his goals for the future.

From the travel we did to visit schools, to the late-night conversations we had about career choices, to critiquing samples of dining hall food, this process changed our relationship for the better.

Even though some parts were messy, many tears flowed, many essays got deleted over and over again, there were so many more parts where we laughed, where he hit exactly the right tone, or he revealed something about himself that even I didn’t know.

While our current, renewed closeness may make things tougher in the Fall, I think our communications skills are better than ever and that’s going to make things easier.

Finally, I want to be thankful. On the night he received his acceptance, A hugged me and said “thanks, Mom.” It was a thank you in the moment, but it was also a genuine thank you for “all of it” that he couldn’t put into words.

My thank you back to him was similarly simple, but jam packed with meaning. So, I am thankful. Thankful that we weathered this storm together, thankful for the outcome, and especially thankful that it’s over, for now, but also thankful for new beginnings!

Liz Pinkey’s column appears on Saturdays in the Times News.