I hate holidays. I don't have very specific Thanksgiving memories of my dad. At least not specific to a year or anything like that. What I do remember is watching him (and sometimes helping) prepare his Thanksgiving ham, mashed potatoes and stuffing. He wasn't the best all around cook, but when he cooked something well, he did it right. I don't know how he did it, but his ham was always so good.
There was one year he attempted to make a chocolate pie. It was not successful. It turned orange. How does that happen? But what I remember most about that experience is how much we laughed about and sat down in the kitchen floor with this chocolate orange colored "pie" and ate it with spoons from the bowl.
I just miss him. The holidays always make it worse and I know that I am no different from others. It still just sucks.
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