looking through me

Something happened when I moved away from home, from family.

I stepped into a role. I became the one who brings dessert. It sounds silly. But it’s an important role.

Growing up Mom or Grandma had dessert under control. I never had to think about it because it was a given. Family gathering. Awesome dessert. Done deal.

But when they weren’t there, a vacuum was created.

I baked at home. Cookies. Brownies. Cupcakes. But away from home I had to step up my game. Because birthdays require real dessert.

I called Grandma and transcribed her mother’s Fudge Cake recipe with the seven-minute icing—which takes no less than fifteen minutes even with an electric mixer. I requested and received emails of cakes, bar cookies and candies from my mom. My repertoire increased exponentially.

Friends, colleagues, everyone deserved dessert, and even while struggling to feel successful in my job, I could provide baked goods. That I could do. My family taught me well. I used the recipe book my sister-in-law compiled for me before I moved, and I added to it. I took on the role of resident baker with relish.

And when I moved back, I was happy to share the role, but I haven’t relinquished it. I’ll make sides or main dishes for family gatherings, but I’d rather bring dessert.

This post is part of the 31 Days: Family series. Read the beginning, and see a full index of posts, here.