The Dead Moms Club
They say we die three deaths: the first when our body stops working, the second when we are put in the ground, and the third when our name is spoken for the last time.
I created The Dead Moms Club because, for many of us in The Club, speaking our mom’s name can be hard for others to deal with but incredibly important for us.
Here I’m posting the stories, memories, and names of our dead mothers, to keep them on the tips of our tongues, at the front of our minds, and in a place that honours their existence.
Of course, the stories we have to tell about our moms are incredibly varied. I am so grateful for the range of experiences my fellow members chose to share — positive, negative, complicated, and simple. They come from all kinds of people who have lived all kinds of lives with their moms. So enjoy it all, from the beauty to pain to never-ending processing.
Jessica Flaman and Gloria Flaman
“Glor was sassy. She told it like it was, she was honest, to the point, no bullshit. And even though she was a tiger mom, she was not afraid to call us kids out when we were being assh*oles.”
“I wasn't always the easiest to get along with during that time, a teenager with a sick mom. There was a lot of misplaced anger towards her, which she didn't deserve. But the last words we said to each other were I love you.”
Meagan Amylon and Kim Amylon
“My mom was special because of her heart. People with depression have a a chemical imbalance in their brain that makes them sad. My mom must have had an imbalance in the other direction.”
Eric Forneret and Alice Forneret
“She was a small woman, barely 5 feet tall, but worked for years in a physically demanding job in a children's clothing factory; not because she loved her career, but because that was what her family needed.”
Jana Josue and Anna Cristina Josue
“She LOVED birthdays. Not her own, everyone else's… I often go "too far" (or what my friends CLAIM is too far) with birthdays. I wonder if this is just who I am or if I do it because I want to be just like her. “
Kirsten Egenes and Gail Egenes
“Before my mom came home on hospice, I spent one night in the hospital with her… I don’t remember what we talked about. I just remember feeling so loved by her. It’s nothing concrete, nothing I could pin down. Just a truth for me to carry deep inside of me.”