The other day my twenty-year old son baked a cake for the 18th birthday of his girlfriend’s sister. This was the first cake he’d made since he was little and we used to bake together – him standing on a chair, with a grown up’s apron folded over to fit him.
Suddenly, like it was yesterday, I see him learning to break eggs that are as big as his toddler hands. I can hear him laughing as he turns the electric whisk to High on purpose just to see the resulting cloud of flour and sugar.
Moments together AND the subsequent memories are great gifts
Along with kicking endless footballs and counting and categorising dinosaur and train collections, I took up baking as a way of spending quality time with my son. But as he grew out of needing a chair to stand on, he outgrew the desire to spend time doing this and I lost the chance to spend that time, just him and me.
Sometimes we mistake a gift for a burden
Whilst I can see those moments as clear and precious gifts now, I didn’t always appreciate them. I turned down moments because I was too busy, too tired and – yes sometimes – just a little bit bored.
Great gifts last for a long time
I was surprised that after more than a decade my son was choosing to go back to baking. It wasn’t an easy choice as he had to borrow everything he needed.
Instead of Google, he rather touchingly turned to me for a recipe and advice; phoning me half way through beating the cake mixture to check what it should look like. He was using a wooden spoon, so it was demanding patience and elbow grease.
What impressed me most was that this was not necessary
He could have easily bought a cake or some other gift. But he chose to give his time and his effort. In the process he pushed himself to try something outside his comfort zone.
What gift could you give?
