Losing Grandma
I donโt remember Grandmaโs death. The only flash of memory is a snippet of conversation, and a flash of grief and concern on Momโs 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, sheโs say, โLa Bella!โ
I still feel my cheeks ache!
Evidently, I didnโt take her death well. I didnโt understand that she was gone, or so Mom would tell me. She became so concerned that she bought the book โWhen People Die.โ I sat on her lap as she read me the picture book cover to cover that night.
โI should have let you attend the funeral,โ 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 byย Samuel Zeller
first published in Image Curve, April 5, 2018
UPDATE: for dVerse Poets OLN#217, Grace Pubtending
#GloPoWriMo2018 #NaPoWriMo2018 5/30
Frank J. Tassone 
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