I had this thought earlier, which was the first time I had taken avocados home for my grandma and my aunt (the younger).
They spooned into the mushy inside and decided it was the weirdest thing ever to eat. Because they had never had avocados.
Its creamy texture was weird to them, completely foreign.
And that’s what I realised today; that light-living, a life without the heaviness of what they had suffered, is something completely incomprehensible to them and for them.
Just like a creamy avocado, they did not and had not experienced any of this light.