/ck/ - Food & Cooking

>>12255402
Part 2/2

The food looked delicious-fried drumsticks, mashed potatoes, and real gravy, and I dug in like a starving animal.

My uncle was sitting across from me at the table, and we were both just enjoying our meal.

After starting in on the third stick, and scarfing down about half my mashed potatoes, I looked up at my uncle with a big old smile and told him how delicious the food was. I told him that it reminded me of home, and that I hadn't had fried chicken like that since-

I stopped. I was so happy and rambling, but the memory choked my throat.

My uncle didn't even miss a beat. He finished the sentence for me with:

"Since Dad passed away."

I couldn't talk, so I forced myself to nod "yes". We both got choked up and finished our meal with tears running down our faces, and enjoying every bite.

That was probably the most bitter sweet memory I have of food. It hurt, but I still treasure it a lot because, up until that point, I had never really bonded with that uncle.

Sad part is, after I left that job, I knew that was probably the last time I would ever get to taste that chicken. That uncle was drinking himself into the ground, and I live six hours away now.

At least I have the memory.