“Do you have their recipe somewhere? I’d love to try it,” she asks. No, because my uncle donated or discarded most of my father’s possessions—another unforgivable act to add to his never-ending list. “Before…you know…my parents had this recipe book.” I have no idea why I am sharing so much about myself, but I can’t seem to stop myself as I continue. “They’d always try new ones, and if they liked it enough, they’d write it down.”
