Pomegranates are my favorite fruit. Their name means “seeded apple” and they are native to the Middle East. I was introduced to them by my grandmother who brought one to our family Christmas. I remember as we each took a seed she warned us about staining our clothes, fingers, and the tablecloth but me and my sisters did not listen to her warnings and my youngest sister ended up with a red stain on her dress. That though, was the moment I fell in love with the fruit.

I buy a pomegranate each time I can find one at the Fresh Thyme near my house for about $2, and I can’t find them not all that often. Pomegranates are most widely sold in the U.S. from September to December. So on the rare occasions where I can buy pomegranate, I follow the same routine. 

I wait until my entire family has gone to whatever restful activities they do in their evenings. My mother watches bad reality TV upstairs, my sister Libby plays Fortnite, the youngest Serafina goes to bed, and my dad watches either hockey or anime. 

I stand in the kitchen at the counter and I cut open the fruit and pull out the seeds in silence. I let my thoughts roam while I complete my task, I take a break from the stress of everyday life and pour all of my attention onto the fruit. Every time I do this though, my mind always wanders to the myth of Persephone and Hades.

The myth of Persephone and Hades is a tragedy no matter how many pop-culture spin-off stories are made using the characters. The tale is one that I have read over and over: different retellings, different details, and different translations. The stories, though, retain a similar plot and for the sake of this essay I will summarize the events as stated by the Oxford Classical Dictionary. Persephone was kidnapped by Hades one day when she was picking flowers. Hades takes her to the underworld with him, and with the consent of Persephone’s father Zeus, makes her his bride by raping her. Demeter, Persephone’s mother, is set on getting her daughter back from her kidnapper and because the other gods refuse to help her she sets the mortal realm into winter making it impossible for humans to give offerings to the gods. Eventually, Zeus sends Hermes, the messenger god, down to Hades to force him to return Persephone. 

The only problem with this is that Persephone has broken the cardinal rule of the underworld. She ate something during her stay, which isn’t allowed. She ate three pomegranate seeds, and because of this she has to go back down to the underworld once a year and that is how the ancient Greeks explained winter.

It is widely argued whether or not Persephone grew to love her kidnapper. Regardless, she grew into her role as Queen of the Underworld, and in many stories, she helps different souls. Every time I cut open a pomegranate I put 3 of the finest seeds into my family's composter as a way to honor Persephone. I believe that every time I eat a seed she is watching and protecting me. She had to learn how to move forward and cut pomegranates. I think of her and how I aspire to have the strength that she had. 

She had to keep going and learn to deal with whatever life threw at her. I can relate to that in a way because everyone has gone through a traumatic experience. The key part of that experience is that it changes the person's everyday life. It can be hard and some people can seem better than others. Like my mom, her parents died when she was around 7. She tries to never let her children see how it affected her though. I found out how my grandparents had died while she and I were sitting together watching Silence of the Lambs. At one point we had paused the movie to go to the bathroom and get water her parents were mentioned. I remarked how she had never told me how they had died. Without a change in tone, similar to how she would tell someone what the weather was, she said “My father killed my mother and then committed suicide” then unpaused the movie and we went back to watching. She spoke of something that altered the course of her life as if it were just an average Tuesday. It sheds some light on the little things that she does that might not make sense to any other person. Like how she hates it when I watch crime shows, especially Criminal Minds. Or when my dad starts yelling at me she stands between us.

 I suppose that everyone has the things that they do because of a trauma or little things someone does that others don’t see as normal. Sometimes when I’m uncomfortable during a meal I cover my mouth so that you can’t see me eating and I get panicky when someone bikes past me on the sidewalk. I know these are things that the average person doesn’t do and sometimes I can pinpoint the event that started causing my reactions. 

I’ve seen that a lot of people, especially people around my age, bounce their legs when they are seated. A little tic that I am also guilty of doing. Out of curiosity, I decided to look up why people do this. I found a lot of different answers. Better Help says that it could be caused by boredom, concentration, or anxiety. Another site (abc4) said that it could be caused by ADHD. The myriad of different causations has led this to become a common response to situations. My mom, though, hates it when I bounce my leg and has tried many tactics to stop me. She has tried verbally and physically but neither works and it only causes me to itch to start bouncing my leg again, more violently than before.

 I think that working through a traumatic event is pretty similar to this. The event will happen and because you are a human with emotions, you will have a response. If you try to stop yourself from reacting or changing because of an event, it will only make you recover worse. It will take time and effort to recover. 

Sometimes recovery means going to therapy or having a friend you talk through your issues with. Sometimes you need to sit down and journal, meditate, or exercise.

Sometimes you just need to stand quietly in your kitchen and cut up a pomegranate.