Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Should You Celebrate Mother’s Day If Your Mother Is Dead?

Let’s say for one moment that your mother died of an accidental prescription drug overdose in a hotel room located in a pretty shitty city (say, Cincinnati) on a date with your father for his pretty cheesy event—a medal ceremony. Specifically, a medal ceremony for those patriotic magic-workers of genealogy, The Sons of the American Revolution.
The Lovely Dead Mother from Hitchcock's "Psycho".

Now that she’s dead, consider this: Would you or should you celebrate Mother’s Day? Visit her grave? Visit your grandparents (her parents) if they’re still lucky enough to reside in the house of the living?

Well, this year, I did celebrate Mother’s Day. With my grandparents. And it was delightful. Don’t misinterpret my message. Mother’s Day is an abomination. Father’s Day is worse than that. But at least our depraved, sickly culture doesn’t celebrate a “Brothers Day” or “Sisters Day” or “National Family Day.” Usually, I would never waste my time with such vicious, hateful holidays. I didn’t do anything with Mom last year when she was still  living because I was too busy being abroad. And the year before that I was busy doing something else, too, though now I don’t recall what. Whatever it was, I can assure you it was more important than pretending for one day out of the year that I dearly loved my mother because that’s what every other American is supposed to do for that one special day.

And for that one special day, remember, it doesn’t matter if you really love your mother or not. You could despise her. And, likewise, she could very well deserve such scorn from her offspring. I know lots of mothers who deserve such spite. I’ve even shared that most sacred of biological pastimes with some of them (before they were mothers). And is not that the most insulting, the most degrading deed one could actually commit against his mother? Is not such forced, compulsory love determined by the whims of the herd simply that—forced love?

A forced love—with an audience, no less!—like all less palpable forms of incestuous rape, is no love at all. So, wait!  Wait till your mother is dead to celebrate Mother’s Day! Or, if she’s still living, love your mother—assuming she is deserving of such love—on any other day of the year. And love her dearly. She will not be here forever.      

1 comment:

  1. "Don’t misinterpret my message. Mother’s Day is an abomination. Father’s Day is worse than that."


    Love your sassy voice here!