Avocado Fruit Salad

Mother's Day 2025. The annual tradition continues in this kitchen that has held every holiday since I started cooking through cancer and came out the other side with a cast iron skillet and a refusal to stop. I am 42 and Mother's Day means what it has always meant: too much food, the right people, and the gratitude spoken aloud because life taught me that gratitude unspoken is gratitude wasted.

The table is full. Mason (14) and Lily (12) are here, growing taller and more themselves with each passing year. Tom is here, beside me, where he has been since the day he showed up with wildflowers and patience and the quiet understanding that love is not a grand gesture but a daily one.

Brett is here — always here, every holiday, every Wednesday, the constant brother in the wheelchair who has been my anchor since we were children on a ranch that no longer exists. Kyle calls from wherever the Army has him, and his voice on the phone is the voice of the brother who left and came back and left again, and the leaving and returning is the rhythm of this family.

I made garden salad with vinaigrette this week, because Mother's Day demands the food that says: I am here, you are here, we are together, and together is the only word that matters. The recipe is the same as last year and the year before and all the years stretching back to the ranch kitchen where Diane stood at 6 AM making cinnamon rolls for a family that ate them without knowing they were eating love. I know now. I've always known. And I make the food and serve it and watch my family eat and think: this. This is why I survived. For this table. For this food. For these people. For this.

This Avocado Fruit Salad is the one I keep coming back to for days like Mother’s Day — it’s bright and fresh and just festive enough to feel like a celebration without pulling me away from the table for too long, because the table is exactly where I want to be. It came together while Mason set the plates and Lily folded the napkins into something resembling swans, and by the time Tom poured the drinks it was already done, ready, waiting — the way the best things always are. Simple food for a full house is not a compromise; it’s the whole point.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 ripe avocados, peeled, pitted, and diced
1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
1 cup fresh blueberries
1 cup red grapes, halved
1 cup fresh pineapple chunks
1 kiwi, peeled and sliced
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon fresh mint leaves, chopped
1/4 teaspoon lime zest

Instructions

Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, honey, and lime zest until the honey is fully dissolved. Set aside.
Prepare the fruit. Combine the strawberries, blueberries, grapes, pineapple, and kiwi in a large serving bowl. Gently toss to mix.
Add the avocado. Add the diced avocado to the bowl. Pour the lime-honey dressing over the fruit and fold gently so the avocado doesn’t break apart.
Finish and serve. Scatter the fresh mint over the top. Serve immediately, or refrigerate for up to 30 minutes before serving for the flavors to meld.

Nutrition (per serving)

Avocado Fruit Salad — The Salad That Says We Are Together