Pomegranates: A Testament of True Love

Pomegranates have always been one of my favorite fruits. I always thought it was because they were juicy and I am drawn to fruit with lots of seeds. I never realized that wasn’t the case at all, not until I lost the reason for my love of pomegranate.

Pomegranate is an infuriating fruit to say the least. Most people would rather not eat one because the process to get the fruit is so tedious. I never had that problem because my pomegranate was always ready waiting for me to eat. My grandma always made sure of it. It was one of her acts of love for us.

You see, because pomegranates are a particularly infuriating fruit it is an act of love to peel one for someone. It demonstrates patience, care, gentility, and most importantly: love.

My grandma never complained when pomegranate season came around and I asked her to peel one for me. She always did it with such care and love. Eventually, she taught me how to do it. They still always tasted better when she peeled them though. No one else, not my mother, sister, or dad ever had the patience to do it. Even I got lazy sometimes. She never did though. Even when her hands and fingers had weakened with age, she still peeled them for me, for everyone. Trembling fingers and hands never deterred her, not even when she had to ask for help cracking open the fruit.

So, when October of 2022 came around and my dad came inside with a basket full of pomegranates that our tree had finally given us, my heart bled like the seeds of the fruit. That year was full of first timers for my family because we had to experience a lot of first things without my grandma but I felt this one was particularly mine. It was my turn to peel them. Alone. For the first time since I could remember there were no seeds waiting for me in the fridge when I came home from school.

Tears sliding down my face, I sat at the sink peeling my own pomegranate. I remembered how often my mom and I complained about the mess it would make on the floor. Who would have thought I would miss cleaning the mess of the little seeds that would fly out of the husk because her little fingers shook a little too much when she peeled my fruit? In that moment, hands hovering over the sink I wished for the damn seeds to be covering the ground.

Every year since she passed, I buy my pomegranates or pick them off the tree and I sit at the table and peel my own pomegranate and peel one for my mom too. My mom hasn’t ever truly liked peeling them but since then she tries to avoid peeling them if she can. So I decided to take the slightly infuriating task upon myself because as much hurt as peeling one causes me, it also warms my heart and makes me feel closer to her. Almost as if it were her fingers guiding mine as I gently pry the seeds off the husk. I haven’t perfected the art yet and I will leave seeds behind or pop them on accident but I know I will one day be able to do as she did.

In conclusion, if someone loves you enough, they will peel that pomegranate for you so you don’t have to.