Breaking news; I do not like turkey. I have liked it in the past. I liked it as a kid, I liked it as a wife, a mother, a grandmother and this year I realized I do not like turkey.

I am pretty certain the reason I no longer like it is because when Larry died, he took all those turkey dinners with him.

He loved turkey. I would make a different recipe every so often and he never complained because he loved turkey. He did not mind when I stopped stuffing the damn bird, he just made his stuffing on the side and baked it in the oven.

Over the years I did begin to scale down on the size of the bird. I could eat one second meal of leftovers and after that every last morsel belonged to Larry and the dogs.

I even included a turkey story in my book “Fractured-Living with Grief”.

If I am ever invited to Thanksgiving dinner in the future, I will eat some dark meat. I will eat everything else on the table with one more exception. I absolutely cannot stand Green Bean Casserole. I know I am probably an alien from a different planet.

From now on it is a roast chicken for me, no more turkey and definitely no green bean casserole.

That face, a face only a mother could love, where is it’s mother? Oh probably in an oven somewhere.

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