I have a long-standing joke with a friend about how much I love when she brings me cut up fruit. She laughs because she says she doesn’t do anything special to it, but when I bite into that fruit, I know it’s something special. I’ve noticed this with other people, too. Fruit just tastes better to me when someone else has cut it into small, bite-sized pieces. (My mouth is even watering thinking about it!)
I also buy pre-cut strawberries at the supermarket almost every week. This feels like a huge indulgence. I know I could cut up my own strawberries! It would be cheaper, too. But somehow buying them pre-cut makes them taste better and sweeter.
Today I was reading a text exchange with a few friends, each one offering to bring food to a luncheon we were planning. I silently begged my one friend to offer to bring fruit because I knew she’d cut it up just right! I stopped myself then and wondered about this for the first time. Why do I delight in this so much? As I said, I could prepare it myself! What is the significance of someone else preparing it for me?
That’s when a memory flashed, of being a small child visiting my grandparents in Florida, of waking up to small bowls of cut up Florida oranges, prepared lovingly by my grandfather, “Bumpa”, of the small forks that stabbed only one piece at a time, making the small bowl last longer, of the perfect, bite-sized chunks of oranges - no peel, no strings (which is especially important to a child!) - that practically melted in my mouth. I remember begging Bumpa to cut up oranges for me, even as I grew up and he grew old. No one could cut up oranges like my grandfather. And each bowl he handed me felt a lot like love.
Bumpa had a lot of wonderful qualities that are worth an essay or two of their own, but today I am missing those days of him offering me not only a small bowl of perfectly cut up oranges, but a sign of his love for me.
So now I’m wondering if my love of pre-cut fruit could really tie back to those days of perfectly cut up Florida oranges. Is that why I love fruit that is especially prepared just for me? Because maybe the fruit really is sweeter when it comes from someone else, maybe other people know how to choose fruit better than I do! Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a little taste of what we are all longing for: the feeling of being loved.
