Ron told me privately that he couldn't stop thinking about The Last Supper.

What a riot the whole day was. Ron cooked a 28-pound turkey and all the trimmings. He always did all the cooking and hosting of the holiday parties. He was the Martha Stewart of the family, after all. Besides, you could tell he loved doing it. His ability came from all those years as a Brother, cooking for 100 people at a time. So thirteen was a piece of cake.

I never saw so much food! There we sat, twelve leather queens and a father, stuffing our faces and laughing and joking for hours. Of course we were all wired on coffee and sugar later with the four or five desserts that Ron had made, so the boys were in rare form. Branch and Michael were snapping fingers back and forth and dishing me every chance they got.

The amazing thing was that Bobby's father seemed right at home. I personally think he was a closet-case. The idea had crossed Bobby's mind, too. But in any case, it was great having him there.

When Branch and Michael decided to leave, I asked if I could go back to the Castro with them.

"No way, Latrina," Branch teased.

"Well, I can go with you if I want, it's public transportation."

"So are you, babe." Bobby's father got a kick out of that line.

Christmas Eve was another feast of the same magnitude. Ron was into tradition, so we were treated to a 12-course Eastern European Winter Solstice meal. This included mostly small seafood courses like pickled herring with sour cream and smoked salmon with cream cheese. There were various crackers and breads. Some of the other courses were beets, marinated mushrooms, and everyone's favorite first course, the kleckis (pronounced "KLATS-keys"). Kleckis are a small dumpling-like dough filled with cheeses, then cooked in a milk broth and served in bowls like a soup. Ron makes them all by hand. They are so delicious and everyone fights over who gets the last few. The very first thing we pass around, before the kleckis, is the Christmas wafer. Ron's mom in Massachusetts sends it in the mail every year. The tradition is to break a piece off and share it with everyone else at the table. The main course is usually a baked seafood casserole, delicious and rich, although some years Ron makes poached salmon instead.

The table is set beautifully, with brass underplates lining the china, crystal goblets for the Amé and Martinelli's Sparkling Apple Cider, homemade ribbon napkin rings, and a centerpiece made of apples and wheat, symbolizing the Feast of Adam and Eve. Everyone gets a tree ornament at their setting as a small gift.

There is always an empty chair and place setting at the table, in memory of those who can't be there with us. During dinner, we tell stories of good times shared and memories of holidays past. These Christmas Eve dinners have become a family tradition in the truest sense of the word.

Then Ron turns right around and has a small group of us back the next day for Christmas supper, with an entirely different table setting and menu, usually prime rib. And to top that off, we're back on New Year's Day for Cornish game hens or standing rib roast.

He is totally fucking amazing.