I met him years ago when he cut my grass. He was a large man who rode around on his mower all day, singing as he went, in heat or cold. He would stop if he saw me and ask about my family, especially my grandson, who he told me was very polite and an excellent young man he would say.
He told me how he and his aging mom loved avocados, and I happened to have a tree growing that produced many avocados yearly.
I would pick a bag full, hunt him down doing a lawn, and then give him the bag. You would have thought I gave him a bag of gold. He told me his mom had many recipes for them, and he would surprise me the next time she made something special.
True to his word, a couple of weeks later, he showed up at my door with a covered dish. This here, he said, is Momma's favorite dish, and mine too. He removed the cover, and the heat rose from the dish, invading my nose. My eyes began to water as he laughed and laughed. It's spicy, isn't it? He said with a toothless grin.
He took a plastic spoon from his coverall pocket and handed it to me, saying, "Go on, now have a taste. "I took a bite, and my tongue stopped working like it does at the dentist after a shot of Novocain. My tears flowed down my face, and when they reached the bottom of my stomach, I had serious thoughts that I was dying. He likes it, Momma. Just look at him! "I managed a smile at Momma as she waved from the truck and yelled, "Thank you for the avocados! "
Well, you can enjoy that now and don't worry about the dishes. They're the ones you throw away. Imagine that, he said, walking back to his truck. It took a while before I regained the feeling in my mouth, but you have to admit, it was one crazy moment in my life that I won't forget.
I heard he passed away recently, shortly after his mother, and now, every time I pick some avocados, I think of him and the simple joy he got watching me on fire.
Mike 2024
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