This “assigned” piece was one that I wrote when attending the Governor’s Writing Academy in 1992. I sat under the tutelage of Harvard’s, Dr. Richard Marius. What an experience! We were to write about something unique to us and naturally I started with A. Subsequent pieces were titles with “B” and “C”----but then you already guessed that, I’m sure.
I’m including this on the blog partly for my children and grandchildren. This true story was eventually published and I just came across a tattered copy. Not big time publishing but its appearance in the “Kentucky New Era” gave Mother bragging rights at “The Tuesday Club” (bridge) for an entire summer.
Avocado Summer
Richard Marius said it well, “thoughts come from associations.” Since I spend a great deal of time eating, many of my thoughts are naturally food-related. Take for example, an avocado, that pear-shaped fruit from California. In the 90’s, Angie Dickinson promoted them and promoted them well, but no one personally promoted them for me as effectively as my great Aunt Ada did the summer of 1954.Today as I recall that event, I’m grateful for a childless aunt who took me under her wing and always treated me like a young lady---what acceptance. Serving water to a 7 year-old in a crystal goblet. Imagine that! Her silver flatware was a gift from her Aunt Anna Barr, aka "Stockade Annie" & Uncle Mabry’s sister. The silver was a gift to Mrs. Barr as a welcoming gift from the congregation of the parish in Louisiana her young husband, John Barr, was called to pastor. That silver is now mine and I think I’ll get it out this week and treat my grand boys to a tea party---but we’ll use sippy cups instead of crystal---for a few more years, at least. I might even add some avocado because my skin is so dry and drawn from 4 surgeries that I could use a little oil. I could certainly use the "glow." Maybe I'll just rub it on my face!
The days were long and the afternoons were especially hot that summer. My only respite would come on Tuesday afternoons when at the age of 7, almost 8, I would walk, unaccompanied, down the sidewalk past the Southalls, and across Alumni Avenue until I came to 2113 South Virginia Street.
As I reached the front porch, Aunt Ada would open wide the big, wooden screen door and in a gentle embrace remind me to be quiet so that I wouldn’t awaken Mr. Mabry who was napping in his chair. (He was Uncle Mabry to me but she always called him Mr. Mabry.) Following her through the house I would make my way to the kitchen.
There the two of us would begin the ritual of slicing a large, perfectly ripened avocado, removing the large wooden looking seed and exposing the soft, yellow pulp with the green edges. Each half would be placed on a fine bone china plate ringed with delicate pink flowers. These plates were then placed on the carrying tray that had been laid with a linen cloth. (Aunt Ada always “laid” linen and tea.) I would then be given the honor of drizzling our delicacies, ever so lightly, with oil.
When I finished my part of the ritual, Aunt Ada would remove her organdy apron and place a spoon---her Louisiana sterling ones---on each of our plates. We would then carry them to the back porch where both our iced water with a twist of lemon and a linen napkin with the drawn hemstitched border would be waiting on the small, round metal table. She would add our plates to that arrangement, straighten our stemmed crystal glasses and then we would both sit down on the big white painted glider.
After we were seated, she would pull the table up between us and most of the time would commence our little teatime extolling the virtues of the avocado---for the way it looked and tasted, for its vitamin content and for all the things it was going to do for my skin. Other than that, very little was said but much was felt. That summer I acquired a life long love of avocados.
Sweet story, nice ending. Right? Wrong! The FDA, the National Health Council, author of the T-factor diet as well as my own doctor have told me that “at my age” I have to cut back on my fat intake. Thirty grams of fat a day is the “max” they say. Well, that stinks! One avocado has thirty-two grams of fat.
Here it is summer and the only good thing that this Memphis heat does for me is conjure up those fond memories of Aunt Ada and her avocados---the ones drizzled with oil, no less. So, what is one to do? How does one resolve the dilemma without tarnishing a memory or getting fat? Do I allow visions of fat grams to negate the treasured recollections of those summer afternoons in Kentucky? Do I give up the memory of that time when eating an avocado on a back porch with a much loved great aunt had been such a pleasant thing to do?
Aunt Ada is probably “up there” smiling down on me saying, “Let her eat fat; it will make her skin glow.” So, as an act of rebellion against the “powers that be” and as a tribute to on little old lady’s love of avocados, I made Ellen's avocado dip using twelve avocados. I ate the whole thing! After all, Aunt Ada lived a slim and trim life for 89 years---feasting all the while on avocados. Even as they closed the coffin everyone still marveled at the glow of her skin.
Do you feel accepted in the beloved? Accepted by the brethren? Do you accept all of those God ordains to cross your path?
Accept one another, then just as Christ accepted you in order to bring praise to God. (Romans 15:7)
A is for ACCEPTANCE. He is our “Acceptor.” (bill of exchange)
