The Gifts That Last a Lifetime

As the years pass, I’ve noticed something interesting when I talk with my daughters about their childhood. They don’t reminisce about toys, gadgets, or things wrapped under the Christmas tree. Instead, their memories are filled with moments — shared laughter, new places, and experiences we enjoyed together as a family.

One of our earliest experience “gifts” was a winter trip to Whistler in 2010, when my two daughters and my parents joined me for a snowy mountain adventure. We spent our days skiing and snowboarding, encouraging one another down the slopes, and celebrating small victories with warm smiles and rosy cheeks. Evenings were slower and sweeter — cups of hot cocoa by the fire, tired legs stretched out, and stories shared long after the skis were put away. It wasn’t about how perfectly we skied; it was about being together, fully present, creating traditions that still feel vivid all these years later.

The following year, we traded snow for sunshine with a family trip to the Big Island of Hawaii. We snorkeled in crystal-clear waters, discovering colorful fish just beneath the surface. We hiked into volcanic landscapes that felt otherworldly, sparking curiosity and awe. But just as meaningful were the quiet moments — long conversations, shared meals, and the simple joy of slowing down as a family in a beautiful place.

What stands out most about both trips is how much closer we became. New experiences have a way of breaking routines and opening space for connection. We learned together, explored together, and created memories that no box or bow could ever replace. Years later, my daughters still talk about those trips — the feeling of the cold mountain air in Whistler, the warmth of the Hawaiian sun, and the laughter we shared along the way.

Those experiences became gifts that grew more valuable with time. While toys were loved in the moment, they faded quickly. The memories, however, have stayed with us — shaping stories we still tell and bonds that continue to deepen.

When I think about meaningful gifting, I always come back to this: experiences don’t get outgrown, broken, or forgotten. They become part of who we are and the relationships we cherish most. And in the end, those are the gifts that truly matter.