The first image we ever see in “Girls” is Hannah Horvath being fed by her mother. Well, not literally. She’s slurping up pasta at a restaurant her parents have taken her to, to announce that they’re no longer going to support her financially.

The last image we ever see in “Girls” is Hannah feeding her son, Grover. It’s as intimate as any sex scene, and all the action takes place on Lena Dunham’s face. We hear Grover fussing, laboring — and then it happens. As per the finale’s title, “Latching,” he attaches to Hannah’s breast. They’ve made a connection.

[ Lena Dunham on the ‘Girls’ Finale and That Final Shot ]

This may or may not be the closing statement you wanted from “Girls.” From the beginning, the series has been framed by Hannah’s pronouncement that she might be the voice of her generation. That “Girls” immediately deflated the line — “or at least a voice of a generation” — didn’t keep it from carrying the burden of representation, the expectation that it speak for a collective we of millions.

But consider another definition of “generation” — the span of time between someone being born and having their own children — and the term becomes personal rather than sociological, individual rather than mass.