Uncle Feynman

This was not my family's finest Thanksgiving. It wasn't the worst, but it seemed to have had most of the joy sucked out of it.

My uncle passed away a little over two years ago, so this was our third Thanksgiving without him, and somehow I seem to miss his presence a little more each year. He had a habit of being goofy; one year at the Thanksgiving table – or xmas, I'm not really sure – he debuted a sound effect he'd been practicing: by puffing up his cheek and tapping it with his finger he could make a perfect water droplet sound.

It's become painfully clear after three years that that kind of mild-mannered mischief is something my family dearly undervalued. Without Uncle Feynman, all my other relatives' – including my own – pettiness, narcissism and impatience clang against each other, emptily.

I miss him. I miss having a friend to play and joke with on the holidays.