Author: Frank J. Tassone

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First Memory of Mom

I don’t know my first memory of Mom. I recall the photo and home movies: beehive hair, white mini. Was it when I cut my hand on that protruding stone at the daycare center?...

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Close Encounter

Mom said something. “Ok,” I answered, stepping out of the kitchen and into the living room. Then one more step toward the door.   CRASH!   Shards of shattered glass rained down on the...

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First Loss

The sky-blue Teddy bear towered over me. Charcoal eyes and nose, friendly smile: my parents nestled me in its arms. Mom told me how much I loved that Teddy. One day, the window of...