Dead Mother Day

My mother died eleven years ago today.

Usually, dates don't stand out to me. This year, the date has somehow resonated. I don't know why it did this year or why it didn't in other years. Perhaps because I was busy with small children.

I found out that she had died while on a plane. My father had called early that morning to say that she had entered a coma. I took the first flight I could find, not packing anything, assuming I was going to sit in the hospital for a few days. I was about six months pregnant with her first grandchild. Anyway, I called my father's office to suggest that one of the secretaries pick me up so that my father wouldn't have to leave the hospital. The office manager, Jan, said that my father was already on his way to the airport. I said, "well, how is my mother?" She said, "Well, I can't tell you." I said, "what is she dead?? Jan says, "yes, but I'm not supposed to tell you."

Comments

[Haarbueschel]

Thanks for sharing. The anniversary of my mother 's death in '90 was also never special to me, and I rarely visite her grave. I'm still waiting for this to get a special meaning. That's what we have it for, right?

[Joe Bageant]

Godammit gurl!

You are too friggin cool for words. My wife Barbara and I are gonna swoop out there and adopt your ass, or at least adopt you into our hearts, like we have Sunil Sharma and Jennifer Matsui, and a slew of other rebellious, brilliant web brats. If it were not for young'uns like you guys and guylettes, I would have drank a gallon of bong water and gin long ago.

Seriously, to us you are one of the special ones.

Take care,
Uncle Joe
and Barbara Dickinson and our two dawgs...Brandy and Bingo

[hysterical blackness]

What can i say? The date resonates differently for me depending on the year. But I always feel the weight of those days around my mother's death.