Category: Non fiction

Goodbye Dad

Of course you’re an artist. You come from a family of artists. I’m an artist, your grandmother was an artist, and so was your grandfather.” – My Father Anthony Joseph Pollizzio 9/3/1926- 9/18/2017 Dear Friends and Followers- I received a call this morning that…

Grandpa

All I have is a torn, grainy photograph of a man I hardly knew. He was a contortionist in Vaudeville and the photo shows him folded in two like a piece of paper. Folks who knew him told me he could put his head…

43 Cats

Good Morning all-   This post is a bit off my usual posts of stories and poetry. But I need some advice. In particular this goes out to my fellow female bloggers. But male bloggers, feel free to contribute if you have any insight…

Waiting on DNA

So many people are of mixed heritage; everyone is from somewhere else. “-G. Willow Wilson In January of 1973, my father changed his name. Not only his first name, but his entire legal name. In the district court of Harris County Texas, the man…

Waiting,Waiting,Praying

The date, forever inked in crimson on her soul like a tawdry tattoo. November 6, 2012. Election day. Two hours since the call. Motorcycle accident, trauma center, broken bones, blow to the head, no helmet. I’m okay, he says. She does not believe him….

Un Pequeño Milagro (A Small Miracle)

Since I began writing this blog, I have been on a journey through my colorful past. I search for photos to post that pertain to my particular story. I run across others that are meaningful and bring back memories of those I have lost…

My Mother’s Ashes

My mother sits beside me as I write. She is comfortably ensconced in a beautiful wooden box; ashes are all that remain of her mortal body. Yet, I cannot bring myself to dispose of these shards of bone and heaps of grey dust. They were once…

Wanda Lee, Linda Lee & The Willow Switch

My Aunt Wanda was watching us that day. I am not sure why. Momma was either out looking for a job or working at the restaurant where she was a waitress from time to time. I loved my Aunt Wanda. I was actually named after her; she was…

The Heart Thief

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose Nothing, I mean nothing honey if it ain’t free, no no Yeah feeling good was easy Lord when he sang the blues You know feeling good was good enough for me Good enough for me…

Possum on the Porch

My grandma Helen died of cancer at the age of 62- the age I am now. I was 9 at the time. I attended the funeral, but I didn’t understand. Who understands the finality of death at 9? As a result, I didn’t get…

My Refuge

Mom never allowed me to go see Daddy once he left me alone in the car to fend for myself. It was then I started visiting a family two houses down from him. Dad had taken me over there from time to time so…

The Last Call

“DEATH COLLECTS ITS RANSOM FROM THE LIVING.”- Linda Lee Lyberg February 18,1994. 3AM. The phone beside my bed is ringing. Nothing good ever comes from a call at 3AM and this one is no different. Forcing myself from slumber, I answer. Screaming and yelling…

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