Sunday, May 10, 2015

What I Got My Dead Mom For Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

Happy Mother’s Day! Sorry I didn’t get you a card, or a spa trip. How about a blog post?

In the past few days, I’ve seen a lot of articles in which famous women write letters to their mothers or daughters, and I was like I WILL NOT BE MADE TO FEEL INADEQUATE IN MY CELEBRITY JUST BECAUSE I HAVE A DEAD MOM. So, here’s a letter to you. Prepare to be dazzled by my literacy! Sorry I broke with tradition and wrote this on a computer and not with three different crayons on a white wall.

Some things I’d like to tell you:

1) Now that you’re dead, you don’t have to deal with the American healthcare system, so let me fill you in on how it’s going for me. I got an IUD this week. (Don’t be scared. They’ve improved a lot since the ‘70s. The nice lady even did an ultrasound afterwards to show me that she had not perforated my uterus, therefore she did not accidentally render me sterile. I thought that was very considerate.) The insertion was more painful than I had thought it would be, so I distracted myself by thinking angry thoughts about the patriarchy and how no man ever has to take a day off when he wants to be proactive about contraception or purposeful about parenthood. You’re probably saying to yourself: Daughter, why are you writing about your contraceptive choices on the internet? This blog is supposed to be about me! But I have a point, Mom, and that point is militant feminism.

Dead Mom and Uterus-Owner, Princess Diana, gets it.
My heath insurance company informed me that it wouldn’t cover any contraception, not even the Pill. It also wouldn’t cover my annual mammogram, which, as you know, I have to get because of you. Thanks, Mom! Breast cancer is the family party that just won’t stop! When I told the receptionist at my gynecologist’s office that my insurance wouldn’t cover any contraception, she made a noise that I interpreted as “Oh, hell no,” put me on hold and then told me the nurse had approved me for their secret stash of free IUDs. Woohoo! Take that, patriarchy! Then, I called the billing department of the radiology center, and told that nice lady that my health insurance refused my appeal for coverage of my mammogram. That nice lady also made a “Oh, hell no” kind of sound, and said something mysterious about sending me a new bill. That new bill had miraculous $1,900 discount on it, next to the words “charity care.” I guess that means I have the breasts of Tiny Tim from A Christmas Carol

SO, since it seems like my healthcare needs can only be met by divine intervention and the grace of medical office receptionists/goddesses, I can only assume you had a hand in all of that miracle-working. Thanks for being a militantly feminist guardian dead mom angel! I am now 99% less likely to make you the dead grandmother of the love child of some ginger bartender/ex-Soviet spy (#dreamman), and my boobs are clear for another year! Happy Mother’s Day to you! 

If my lady parts had an Instagram, their bio would read, “Militant feminism is giving me life! #iud #mammogram #onfleek” And then they’d take a selfie with Barbie at Coachella. You probably don’t understand anything I just said, but don’t sweat it. Being dead means you don’t have to keep up with everything. You’re too cool for that. (Get it? Get it? Too soon?)
The only thing better than a militant feminist is a ROYAL militant feminist.
2) So, Mom, now you know that I am not giving you a love child for Mother’s Day. BUT, I am giving you something better! It is my pleasure to inform you that on behalf of the United Kingdom and Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, you are the future dead step-grandmother of a princess! 

Sometimes I can’t believe Prince William’s timing. He married Duchess First Wife the weekend of my 31st birthday. At first I was offended, but then I realized his marriage anniversary is actually a secret, elaborately coded message of love. And now that William has produced a baby princess THE DAY AFTER MY 35th BIRTHDAY, I know his love is true. He might as well have handed me a birthday card that says, "Hey girl, I know your eggs are on the downtown train to No-ville. Don't worry. I got this. You just do you."

That’s right, Mom, I am the future stepmother of a princess! Happy Birthday to me, and Happy Mother’s Day to you! It’s like we are living in our very own fairytale! We just need a magic mirror and a bad attitude and our story will be complete! I don’t know what your title will be. Maybe something like Dead Queen Mother? I’ll have to research the appropriate honorifics for dead moms. If you see Princess Di, ask her what she thinks. 

The best part is that now that William has created an heir and a spare, he and I will be able to live out our lives on a yacht, devoted only to each other. Right now he has to live for his country, but once his patriotic obligations have been fulfilled, he’ll be able to live only for me. Here is a picture of our little Princess Charlotte Elizabeth Diana. You’ll notice that her name contains some of the same letters that are in mine! More secret love codes!
Sleeping Beauty's First Public Appearance.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! You’re the best, even when you’re dead.

Love, Laura

p.s. I know you don’t know what You Tube is, but Tina Turner is on it, so I think you’d like it.






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Greetings to everyone who finds this blog by Googling "I have a dead mom."
I don't always write about dead moms, but I think it's fun when I do. If you want to see what else I have going on, follow me on Twitter or Facebook.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Aloha, Laura. Love your blog. From one daughter of a 52-year dead mom to another. BTW, my cousin Stanley, see his FB "Stunning Flip", was born with an IUD in his hand. See how he turned out. Love, Love, Love you! Aunty Charlene