Losing Grandma

I don’t remember Grandma’s death. The only flash of memory is a snippet of conversation, and a flash of grief and concern on Mom’s face.

My most clear memory of Grandma: she would squeeze my cheeks between her index and middle fingers and then twist. Simultaneously, her Calabrais face in mine, she’s say, ”La Bella!”

I still feel my cheeks ache!

Evidently, I didn’t take her death well. I didn’t understand that she was gone, or so Mom would tell me. She became so concerned that she bought the book “When People Die.” I sat on her lap as she read me the picture book cover to cover that night.

“I should have let you attend the funeral,” Mom often said afterward.

It would have made no difference. But how could I tell her, then, what took me so long to understand?

fallen leaves
her faded photograph
her sole remains


photo by Samuel Zeller


Frank J. Tassone

I fell in love with writing ever since I wrote my first short story at the age of 12 and my first poem in high school. My free-verse has appeared in the literary e-zine Pif. My haibun has been published in Cattails, Haibun Today, Contemporary Haibun Online (CHO) and Contemporary Haibun, CHO's annual print anthology. My haiku has been published by the Haiku Foundation. My senryu has been published in Failed Haiku. I regularly perform haibun and other haikai with Rockland Poets. I am honored to be a part of the Image Curve community as a contributing poet. Visit my website www.frankjtassone.wordpress.com to see more of my poetry. Follow me on twitter @fjtassone2 and like my Facebook page American Haijin for updates on my latest work.

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