Oh mighty magnificent mangoes; sweet, sometimes sour, and juicy. A vibrant and radiant orange color that tastes as refreshing as it looks. Yes, it’s my favorite fruit, but it’s beyond that.
Mangoes are my love language. I know it sounds silly, but they are.
My recollection of childhood consists of mangoes of all forms: dried mangoes, fresh mangoes, mangoes in smoothie form, mangoes in dessert form, Thai mango salad – the list goes on.
Such a versatile fruit, one of many types and origins – but the honey mangoes that arrive in a purple box covered in clear tape that you can only find seasonally at a local small Asian mart are the best.
Maybe it’s the mix of the happiness that I associate with the summer season, but the anticipation for these seasonal mangoes to arrive makes it even more special.
So yes – mangoes are my love language, and it’s rooted in and is a reflection of my mom.
While mangoes are already something I associate with joy, it’s something she would bring me when she knew I needed it most.
If I was too hot on a summer day? Mango.
If I wanted a quick snack after school? Mango.
But most importantly, if I was feeling down? Mango.
Mangoes became a way for my mom and I to communicate. We didn’t have to say anything, but she’d bring me a plate of mangoes and that action spoke louder to me than any words could.
In my most overwhelming times of navigating my virtual first year of college through a pandemic, and as a First-generation student to top it off – mangoes became my motivator.
While my mom couldn’t offer me advice or the resources to support the challenges I faced in school, she’d bring me a plate of mangoes, and it was the encouragement I needed. It was a symbol to me that she recognized my hard work and knew I needed a boost.
Through heartbreaks, hardships, and heavier times where I felt my lowest – she’d bring me a plate of mangoes. It affirmed my emotions and reassured me that the love I felt from my mom would allow me to power through anything I faced.
She would always know when I needed it most. Whenever I visit home, she’ll always try to give me a mango and it shows me that she’s thinking of me. It’s the biggest “I love you” I could receive.
I’ve moved out and live by myself now. And I buy mangoes (of any form) whenever I need to boost myself up. So to me, mangoes are nostalgic and serve as a reminder for me to keep pushing forward through the barriers that come with being a young adult. They not only are a fruit I enjoy, but serve as a source of comfort for the warmth and love my mom provided. I love mangoes, and it’s thanks to my mommy.
