Savor. It’s a feel-good verb – like love. I love chocolate. I love ice cream. I love the thrill of victory. More accurately, I love my wife and daughter. I savor chocolate, ice cream, and victorious tennis matches.
We savor lots of things. Foods. Drinks. Smells. Experiences.
In this hectic world, though, do we always take the time to savor, truly savor, the moments? Recently, my daughter’s reaction to me eating a single piece of fudge taught me that I have room for improvement when it comes to savoring the moments. Here’s her side of the story.
Jessie, Age 12
Today’s topic is about the proper amount of fudge. My mom brought home super great fudge from work and warned Daddy and me to taste just a little bit because it was very rich. I followed her directions and ate a crumb or two at a time. No, I’m not exaggerating. The fudge was super rich, and a tiny piece tasted like a whole piece of candy. I warned Dad about this before he tasted it, but he didn’t listen. He popped a giant piece into his mouth wasting 20 bites. He said he did listen, and he would have eaten a piece three times the size had I not warned him. I wasn’t upset that he tried the fudge, and he ate a reasonable amount. I just thought he could have had the same amount of flavor in each bite and made it last longer. Anyway, let’s hear Dad’s point of view.
The fudge was delicious! I savored my piece, at least I thought I had. And from a man’s perspective, my piece was an appropriate size. I must admit, though, Jessie’s reaction surprised me.
Yesterday, another savoring lesson came into play. My wife, Mattie, had purchased a container of fine chocolates a few days earlier. I walked into the kitchen and noticed a plate on the kitchen counter. The plate contained a single chocolate, cut into eight tiny pieces. I thought about sneaking a piece or two, but I knew where the container was located and could easily grab my own full piece, not one cut into eighths.
The cut-up piece of chocolate tempted me all morning. Each time I walked by, one of the pieces called out to me, but I showed restraint.
When Mattie came into the kitchen, I asked, “Why did you cut the chocolate into eight pieces?
“I want to savor each piece. Plus, there’s a chance I might not eat them all.”
Her logic made sense, however, leaving the candy in plain view of a chocolate-loving man did not. I ended up eating three of the tiny pieces, savoring the taste of each one. Mattie did say that she might not eat them all.
Later, I confessed that I had snatched a few pieces. Mattie said, “I thought my stash looked smaller.”
Here’s the interesting part of my story, though. Having savored those tiny pieces of chocolate, I needed more. I walked into the pantry, pulled down the container, removed the lid, pulled out a piece, and dropped the entire chocolate into my mouth. The chocolate slid down deliciously, no need to cut it into smaller pieces.
Then it hit me. The big piece, though good, was gone. I had enjoyed the three tiny pieces a lot longer. Humm, maybe my wife and daughter’s savor strategy had merit.
Jessie is a busy young lady. Her days are filled with school and extra-curricular activities that often keep her away from us. This leaves Mattie and me hungering for more pieces of her time. We need to savor the smaller pieces we have, driving her to and from, watching from the sidelines, and listening to her describe key parts of her life we miss.
But whether I’m savoring a big moment with Jessie or a few small ones, one thing is certain ’tween daughter and dad, I love my girl and my girl loves me.
Until next month, remember to cherish the moments. Happy Valentine’s Day! Savor the moments, and maybe some chocolate, with the ones you love.