Happy Thanksgiving, if it means something to you & my ongoing struggle with litotes

For many years of my life, most years actually, Thanksgiving was Uncle Al. The flystrip over the turkey, the turkey trapped in an oven accidentally set on self-clean instead of “bake,” and while “matters” have made it so the past few Thanksgivings have been spent here in Arizona, every other Thanksgiving of My Old Life, from the time I was a baby, was spent in Iowa.
The loss of the life force I called “Uncle Al” makes this particular holiday feel acutely painful to me. I really admired my uncle. The way he could…