The Tale of the Jackfruit

Today, I ate some jackfruit. It was lovely, and I was reminded of the sweet texture and taste as well as the unusual smell of the fruit. It really took me back to my childhood days.

When I was young, my parents gave me some jackfruit to try from the tin. I believe my dad asked me to give it a try. I ate some and really enjoyed it - and told my parents this (although I no longer recall if it was both my parents or just my dad - in retrospect, it was likely just my dad as I think this happened during a time period when my parents were separated).

My dad remembered that I enjoyed it and would on occasion, as a treat for me get another tin of jackfruit. I particularly loved the syrupy stuff that it came in when it came straight from the tin - pure sugar and no wonder a kid would like it.

Years went by, but still, sometimes my dad would give me jackfruit. As his dementia progressed, he still would cut up fruit for me most nights. Different things, but almost always something I had said I enjoyed at some point in my life. Eventually, the fruit stopped and I also didn't really crave it as much anymore.

But, this story isn't really about the fruit, is it?

When we look at all of the people in our lives, all of those who have been with us since childhood, we see a plethora of people, from siblings to cousins, friends, extended family, family friends. We have those who are like our parents, like our brothers and sisters and who are acquaintances. Through all of these relationships, I would venture to say that none of them remember our preferences as well as a caring and attentive parent.

I have my own children now and I know what they love to eat and what they don't. I know, before speaking if something I say will make them upset or not. I know their dislikes and likes about as well as I know my own - better in fact because I actually spend time thinking about what they like and dislike and I don't spend the same time thinking about my own preferences. I cannot honestly say that I know anyone else as well; not my brothers, not my friends, not even my spouse.

That is the nature of a parent (at least one who tries to be a good parent) to be attentive - to remember things no one else does.

Now, no one remembers that I loved jackfruit. Even I had forgotten in the hectic pace of everyday life. I wonder what else I have forgotten about myself that only my parents really paid attention to? Cherish the parents we have, cherish a mother, a father who pays attention, because no matter how much you love another or how much they love you - there are some things that no one else can remember about you. Our parents make up an integral aspect of our identities, and the saddest part of losing a parent or both is that we lose a part of ourselves. A part that may not come back, until that one day when you inexplicably try a piece of jackfruit again.

Yours in faith and love.