The term also comes with an implication of burden, an image of a beleaguered middle-ager torn between needing to check on a child and, at the same time, on a parent.
And while caring about the health or life issues of both a parent and a child can definitely be worrisome, I made a lovely discovery the other day.
Being a member of the Sandwich Generation can also be a true joy. Even sweet.
Of course, I was sampling cake at the time, so perhaps delectable butter cream icing influenced my assessment.
Just a few days before my butter-cream-induced-revelation, I’d been worried about my dad. He’d had a bout with pneumonia, which he thankfully came through just fine, but he had a bit of a reaction to the antibiotic.
And I’d been worried about our youngest daughter, healing from a sprained ankle.
At the same time, I’d been talking with my dad about having a party with family and his church friends for his 88th birthday.
And talking with our daughter about plans for her graduation party.
Parties, of course, require cake.
Preferably a large, delicious cake, which means a cake not baked by yours truly, but by professional cake-bakers.
So, as dad started to feel better, out went the invitations for his 88th birthday party. And in went the order to my favorite bakery for a beautiful, large, festively decorated cake for his birthday.
Then, about the same time worries about our daughter’s ankle started to ease, our daughter said to me, “Now, you are coming to the bakery with me to meet with my friend and her mom, right? So that together we can figure out graduation cake details — size, decorating colors and style, and so on?”
Of course I said ... of course.
It turned out that her friend’s mom suggested getting our daughters’ cakes from the very bakery at which I’d ordered my dad’s birthday cake.
What’s more, she suggested a meeting time that was literally just a half hour or so after I was scheduled to pick up my dad’s birthday cake.
So it was that I found myself in a bakery, from which all our specialty cakes (birthdays, graduations, baptisms) have come over the years, double-checking my dad’s 88th birthday cake.
And then, minutes later, helping select the details for our youngest daughter’s graduation party cake.
I didn’t rush either task.
This combo cake errand was one to be savored, enjoyed, remembered, focused upon.
Because it was, yes, sentimental and poignant.
But also sweet. And not just because of the butter cream icing.
Sharon Short’s column runs Monday in Life. Send email to sharonshort @sharonshort.com.
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