The Dead Moms Club. If you have a dead mom, you’re already a member, no monetary fee required. Wondering where your jacket is? Please re-read the title.

I spoke with Alexis about this, and although we’re not sure exactly when we came up with the DMC, it was likely in the Fall after our moms deaths. But I’m getting ahead of myself. You should know a little of the backstory to make better sense of why two 16 year olds would make a club based on maternal death, instead of just crying at home like respectable people.

Having a dying parent is weird for you, no matter your age. It’s uncomfortable for you, you’re not sure what to do or not do, etc. In high school, it’s weird for you and everyone around you. They aren’t experienced with it either, it’s not perceived as common. In books and movies your parents die of natural causes when you have a mortgage and two kids, when tragedy strikes and they die in a car accident so you get raised by your estranged aunt, or when slain before your very eyes by a demon lord, to whom you vow revenge. Yes, this isn’t ALL of the scenarios, but you get where I’m going with this.

Alexis and I didn’t know each other’s mothers were sick. We found out after the mother died. Why is that? Because it’s weird to make small talk about it with your friends in the quad. “Can I have some of your chips?” “Sure! Now let me tell you about my mom being put on oxygen today.” Doesn’t quite flow right. As I said above, it’s not something perceived as a common occurrence. You’re already awkward and insecure about, well everything else, so a dying parent is one more topic you have no idea how to broach.

So Alexis and I decided to play it close to the chest. Some friends knew our moms were “sick”, even “dying”, others didn’t. For A and myself our mothers had been ill for so long it was normal, and with no real end date, unlike midterms and finals, it made sense to keep it to ourselves.

Now let’s get to the conception of the DMC. The fall after our moms deaths found Alexis and myself on the losing end of a battle of insults with friends. In desperation Alexis retorted, “give us a break, our moms died.” It was in the stunned silence that followed Alexis and I discovered something wonderful. While having dead moms blew, there were some perks if we didn’t keep the fact to ourselves. Our twisted alliance was formed.

The Dead Moms Club gave Alexis and myself validation for all the emotions we were feeling. Unlike the ambiguous “dying”, “dead” was fact, and one that sucked. We weren’t going to keep that to ourselves. We found solace in throwing our feelings of sadness and anger to our caustic wits, yelling, “feast on their meaty flesh and grow strong!”

Through humor, inappropriate as it was, we cooped. And once our friends realized that, stunned silence turned into acceptance and even participation.

I’ve run long in the word count, so next time on Progeny of the Dead and Dying: Your Mom Jokes – she’s so dead she fits in a shoe box.