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 Mother’s 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.
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You are amazing!
I love reading this. You really are so inspirational.
Sarah, you are in my thoughts. I’m so inspired by your blog. My mom had ALS when I was growing up. There was a time in my 20′s I doubted her presence but soon it was crystal clear she never left me. Her body may have left the earth and I came across strong women and friends who got me through sad times, but then I realized she’s in my constant thoughts, just a part of me like a subconscious. I feel her every second even though I haven’t seen her in 25 years. She is just as profound to me as always and I rely on her strength that I not only witnessed when she alive but still I still feel it in a very real way. I don’t know what I would do without that feeling. It doesn’t make me sad or bitter – it does make me happy. I’m so thankful for it and it drives me to be the best mother I can to my own girls. And it makes me appreciate each day because I know life can change in an instant.
Many prayers to you!!
Cristin, thank you for this. My best to you and your family.
You’re who we should all be…but, I’ll settle for your first hundred attributes. Loved are you.
You capture words, thoughts and feelings so eloquently. Always. You amaze me.
Sarah, thank you. I have pondered this all my life. I am a member of The Dead Dad’s Club. I was very affect by all the dead mothers in these films. My father was already dead and the thought that my mother could too stuck fear in my my heart and soul. I should have reasoned she could die too…, but I never really did. I’m sure it was my minds way of self preservation. I, like Cristin, feel my dad in my life. This has been a blessing to grow up and learn about him with my adult mind and sensibilities. I see him in my son and daughter in different and wonderful ways. The pain of loss is there when I see a daughter wrap her arms around her dad’s neck, always surprising me. His love is with me daily as I know he didn’t choose to leave and that makes all the difference.
Love to you and your family Sarah
Thank you, Nicole. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Hello Sweetheart! YOU ARE AWESOME!
Hi Sarah,
I, too, am a member of this club. My mother died after a 4 year battle with cancer when I was 16. When she died, I was not as “devastated” as everyone thought I should be. I wasn’t devestated because I never felt she left me. Ever. Some might label that denial, but I don’t think thats what happened. A loving bond between a mother and daughter just can’t be broken. I am having a hard time explaining this accurately without sounding like a cheesy cliche. I just wanted you to know as someone who did lose her mother physically, I never lost her presence or love in my life.