In the photo, my mother’s mother sits in a wooden chair.   White hair, spectacles, a satisfied smile. Wearing a sober navy blue dress, her annual Mother’s Day corsage. Cotton-candy pink roses and ribbons flowed down her chest. By her side, a pot of exotic Hawaiian flowers, vivid scarlet hearts gleamed in the sun, sent by the son she’d never see again. One last glance left to stand for a lifetime.

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By Ann Hermone