The Dead Mothers Club



I was in the grocery store last week when the latest issue of The Atlantic caught my eye. The cover promised a story called “Why are all the Cartoon Mothers Dead?” This is something I’ve often wondered about, but the article wasn’t quite what I was expecting — the thesis being that the reason moms die in movies is so that dads can step up and play the role of both parents, showing that moms aren’t really necessary anyway.

The author made an interesting case, but it was in the comments section where I found something that rang more true to me. Moms die in movies, people were saying, because that’s the best catalyst for a good story. There’s no adventure, no real danger, when your mom is around to protect you. So that’s why moms, and sometimes both parents, have to be disposed of first. I don’t know why more of them couldn’t just go on vacation (Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead) or stay normal sized while their children turn into Cheerios (Honey I Shrunk the Kids.) I’m just glad I was able to work in some of the movies from my own formative years here.

I maintain a mostly optimistic mind frame, and I definitely don’t spend a lot of time thinking about death. You just can’t. No one knows what’s going to happen or when, so it’s quite literally a waste of time. Still, it does feel like in children’s movies and stories, death is everywhere. And, of course, early parental demise is a plot device that interests me more than ever these days, as I occasionally consider what it will be like for my daughter to grow up without a mom, and wonder when exactly this might happen to her.

Because, odds are, she will be a part of what is apparently known as The Dead Mothers Club. The phrase was coined by Rosie O’Donnell, who was 10 when her mom died, and only those who lose their mothers before age 20 are allowed to gain entrance (or so I’ve read.) This actually has the effect of making me feel a little better about our situation. Scarlett will not be alone in this experience. There’s a whole club! They have a documentary that was released on HBO earlier this year. She’ll find people to bond with over their shared misfortune, just the way we all do. Just the way I have, through my relationships with the other faces of ALS I’ve met on this very bizarre journey.

I’m sorry if this sounds harsh or morbid to anyone. I’ve had a lot of time now to think about life and death and to decide without question that I want to enjoy the time I have left rather than dwelling on the negative. When I do get upset, it’s almost always about how all of this will affect my daughter. So believe me when I say this is not me trying to have a pity party. It’s really just me looking to Disney, Pixar and the other storytellers, hoping for something promising in the place where a kid faces adversity and rises from it, stronger than she would have been otherwise.

I know my daughter is not a cartoon fish or a cartoon deer or a cartoon mermaid…the list goes on. Real kids shouldn’t lose their moms. Or their dads. But if they must, why can’t they all have incredible adventures, gain independence, realize their vast potential, and be sublimely happy in the end?

I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

Related post: What I Know About Heaven And Hell 


The Scary Mommy Community is built on support. If your comment doesn't add to the conversation in a positive or constructive way, please rethink submitting it. Basically? Don't be a dick, please.

  1. says

    I was 20 when I lost mine to colon cancer. I was lucky that I was an adult and fully capable of taking care of myself. There were times , shortly after her death, that I did dumb things because I was in shock and hurting. But kids are very resilient! I had a lot of support and I went on to graduate college, find a job, get married, and have my own family. It hurts more than you know to lose your Mom so early in life, but we do eventually preservere.

    Show Replies
  2. says

    I was 15 when my mom died. 13 when she got sick. It’s a club that is really shitty to be a part of. I was fortunate enough to have many “other mothers” who stepped in – much like fairy god mothers. I am wildly happy in life now. I am a kick ass mother, pretty decent wife and productive member of society. But I still miss my mom with an ache that is overwhelming and all consuming at times. That’s usually when I crawl into bed an snuggle with my own daughters. Their hugs soothe my saddend soul.

    Show Replies
  3. says

    I lost my mom at 17 and it changed me forever. Like the PP said above-it is a devastating and confusing life. I also lost my dad at 21, which only made things harder. Having a wonderful husband and 3 great boys has healed me in some ways, but opened-up new anxieties as well about my own mortality and not wanting them to go through what I went through.

    Show Replies

Load More Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>