I want to be real: I love the avocado. It has the greatest color.

It boasts of nutrition and healthy adds.

But I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I do like it, but it's just a green fruit.

(Look it up. I'm not wrong.)

Here's the real reason I accept the title of "avocado obsessed".

They remind me of home. Their appearance in the fridge seems to be the only produce I can afford on a daily basis. The seasonal fruits seem to fade, and there's the risk of not eating them fast enough.

But the avocado. It holds fast to my ever-changing schedule. It splits into whatever I need – quarters, halves or a line down the middle. It pairs well with toast and a bit of salt and pepper. It makes the breakfast skillet worth twice what you paid for. It makes the smoothie thicker. It's the base to Chipotle guac.

Its connection to home holds tight to taste-buds. The avocado sat in the bowl on my family's kitchen table. No matter the time crunch, avocado was put with the over-easy egg on toast every morning. My mom and I would take turns, serving, giving. It wasn't about the flavor or how good I cooked the egg. It was about making it for not one, but two. In the rush of morning, I will pause and think less of my needs and more your own.

There's my secret. The avocado print pillow or the pastel drawing on my wall means a bit more. They remind me of the act of service. My home. My family. In a place so far from home, I hold tight to my morning. My memories. My avocado.

So next time you'll see me in the lunch room with my avocado, don't ask where it came from. Consider what act of service will be done in your morning. The piece of fruit is the reminder of mine.