The most memorable Thanksgiving I ever experienced wasn’t spent around a table with family, stuffing my face with Turkey,which I don’t particularly like, and fixings.

I didn’t digest that amazing comfort food sitting in front of a television set, watching some exciting, iconic football game.

There weren’t any visits to the neighbors to deliver one of my mother’s famous Apple Jack pumpkin pies, based on a recipe Lucy had found in an old issue of the Bulletin , and preserved like a family heirloom.

The most memorable Thanksgiving I ever experienced was spent alone, thousands of miles away from Philly accents and the Wanamaker Light Show, in a beautiful place that wasn’t home, at a time when all I wanted was to be close to my father, eating that disgusting cranberry sauce he loved, and I

See Full Page