(Warning: cheesy platitudes contained herein.)
“Savour every moment”
That’s what the guest on Radio Four said the other morning. She was talking about what she hopes her children will learn from her. (Or something like that. Not quite sure I caught the whole thing but that was the general idea.) Anyway, it’s a platitude, but one I can go along with. A laudable aim.
To savour every moment.
To cherish the now. All that sort of thing.
But at the particular moment she said it, I was scrubbing a frying pan from that morning’s breakfast.
And I found myself thinking, “every moment”? How do I savour this particular moment? It’s a mundane, not especially pleasant task, scrubbing this frying pan. It’d had bacon and eggs in it. They’d stuck a bit. It’s greasy. I can hear my son and his cousin having fun in the next room, and here am I stuck doing this. Dull. Boring. Ordinary.
But you know what, I thought about it and realised how much it meant, that fact that I was scrubbing that greasy pan.
And I was thankful. Scrubbing that pan meant I’d had a good breakfast. Bacon and eggs: my favourite. We can afford such luxury from time to time. What a privilege that is. I was washing the pan in hot water. Readily available hot water, straight from the tap. What a luxury. So many don’t have that. My son was having a great time, in the company of someone he loves and looks up to. He’s lucky. So am I.
Yes, it was a moment to savour.