A Cuban Grandmother, an Avocado, and the Secret to Lasting Love
Some say inspiration strikes in the grand gestures—epic proposals on mountaintops, sunsets shared on faraway beaches, or even the poetic lives of our favorite Hollywood "it" couples. But me? My most unexpected inspiration came from an avocado. Well, technically, from my abuela… and an avocado.
Let me explain.
Lesson One: You Can’t Rush the Good Stuff
Picture this: I’m ten years old and standing in my grandmother’s Miami kitchen, watching her inspect a perfectly ripe avocado with the level of scrutiny that could rival a CSI investigator. Her hands, weathered but steady, cradle the fruit like it’s a treasure.
“Martin,” she says in Spanish, “the secret to a good avocado is knowing when it’s ready. Too soon, it’s bitter. Too late, it’s mush. Timing is everything.”
At the time, I nodded absently, more focused on sneaking a handful of plantain chips while she wasn’t looking. But her words stuck with me, even decades later.
Abuela wasn’t just talking about avocados; she was imparting a deep truth about relationships. Every great love story—even the messy ones—relies on timing. Sure, Hollywood makes it look effortless: Meg Ryan rushes through an airport, finally finds Tom Hanks, and suddenly they’re soulmates. But in reality, relationships aren’t about grand arrivals. They’re about showing up at the right moment, consistently.
Take my first heartbreak. Her name was Sofia, and she had the kind of smile that could make my brain short-circuit. We dated for a couple of years, and, looking back on it now, I realize we wanted the same things but not on the same timeline. She wanted roots; I wanted wings. She was ready for the ripe avocado; I hadn’t even planted the tree yet.
The lesson? Relationships can’t be rushed. Timing isn’t just nuanced—it’s necessary. If you poll the happily coupled people in your life, chances are they have a story involving missed connections, second tries, or that sweet spot where two lives align. Like an avocado, it’s all about ripening at the same pace.
Lesson Two: Embrace the Imperfect Slice
One particularly humid Miami afternoon, I watched Abuela struggle with a stubborn avocado. It wasn’t her finest pick. The skin was a bit blotchy, and when she opened it, the flesh wasn’t as smooth as it should have been. But did she toss it? No. She gave an exaggerated sigh (because Cuban women never do anything halfway), grabbed a spoon, and scraped out the usable parts. Within minutes, she turned that imperfect avocado into the most delicious bowl of guacamole I’d ever tasted.
It wasn’t until years later, staring at my own messy relationship history, that I understood the brilliance of that moment.
Here’s the thing: No one’s life—or relationship—is perfectly ripe all the time. There’ll be flaws, stress, and days when your person irritates you so much that signing up for a solo trip to Antarctica starts to look appealing.
But like the guacamole from that flawed avocado, there’s usually something worth salvaging. That fight about whose turn it is to buy groceries? It might turn into an overdue conversation about teamwork. Their annoying habit of never texting back when they’re busy? Well, that’s just their version of self-care—not malicious intent.
And sometimes, yes, you’ll cut into something too damaged to save. It happens. Not every relationship is a smash hit, and that’s okay. Because even failed love is love that teaches.
Lesson Three: Connection Is Rooted in Care
At its peak, the avocado tree in my grandmother’s backyard was a marvel. It sprawled half the length of our tiny yard, its branches thick with fruit. One summer, when I was home from college, I asked her the secret to growing such a beauty. Abuela shrugged, then replied, “You care for the roots. You don’t see them, but they make everything happen.”
Cue the metaphor, right?
The truth is, any meaningful relationship thrives not on what’s seen—fancy dates, Instagrammable vacations, or even fiery chemistry—but on what’s unseen. How do you handle stress together? Navigate hard conversations? Cheer each other on when no one’s watching or applauding?
My grandparents were together for over 50 years, and their connection wasn’t flashy, but it was solid. He’d peel an orange for her every morning, sprinkle it with salt (a truly Cuban thing), and serve it without fail. She’d sew his pants or make his favorite dish before he even asked. Small acts, invisible to outsiders, but foundational. No strong connection exists without tending to the roots.
So next time someone tells you grand gestures are the secret to true love, smile, nod, and then tell them about my grandparents and their orange-salt routine.
Practical Tips for Your Own Relationship Avocados
If you’re looking to channel your inner avocado guru, here are some straightforward takeaways:
- Check the timing: Don’t rush into or force a connection. If it feels wrong or too soon, it probably is. Give it room to grow naturally.
- Embrace imperfection: The best relationships aren’t flawless; they’re just honest. Love isn’t losing its charm because your partner snores. It’s figuring out how to make peace with their quirks (or buy earplugs).
- Feed the roots: Compliments, gratitude, and thoughtful gestures—these aren’t extras. They’re essentials. Love lives in the little, often unseen moments.
- Know when to let go: Respectfully acknowledge when it’s time to part ways. Rotten fruit doesn’t just disappear—it spoils everything around it.
Conclusion: Let Life Ripen
When I think about my abuela now—years after she passed away—I realize how much her wisdom shaped the way I approach love. She knew that lasting value doesn’t come from chasing perfection but from respecting the process. From waiting, from working, from choosing connection over convenience.
So the next time you see an avocado, remember this: It’s not just breakfast toast material. It’s a symbol of love—messy, flawed, and worth nurturing. And who knows? Perhaps it’ll inspire you to be patient, to embrace imperfections, and to care deeply for the roots holding your world together.
Abuela would approve.
