Dan Savage's mother died

[Book Lover]

and I can't stop crying after reading his column this week.

http://www.villagevoice.com/people/0815,a-heartbreaking-work-of-savage-genius-shit,404215,24.html

<snip>
After a long struggle, we had to go into my mother's hospital room and tell her that nothing more could be done. She didn't go into the hospital expecting to die, and she was not ready to go. But she took the news with her characteristic grace. She said her farewells, asked us never to forget her (as if), and paused for a moment. Then Mom lifted an eyebrow, shrugged, and said . . .

"Shit."

My mother wasn't crude; I didn't get my foul mouth from her. She used profanity sparingly, and then only in italics and quotation marks. When she said "shit" on her deathbed, we understood the joke. What she meant was this: "Now, the kind of person who casually uses profanity might be inclined to say 'shit' at a moment like this. But I'm not the kind of person who casually uses profanity—and certainly not at a moment like this. But if I were the kind of person who casually used profanity, 'shit' might be the word I would use right now. If I were that kind of person. Which I'm not."

Everyone gathered around her bed—my mother's husband (my son has two fathers and so do I), my sister, my aunt—knew what Mom wanted: She wanted us to laugh. This woman, so full of life, who wanted so badly to live, having just been told she would not, she was trying to lift our spirits. ("Shit," for the record, wasn't her last word. Those were just for the family.)

Anyway, my mom is dead, and I am not in the mood, as she used to say. ("You are so," one of us kids would usually respond. "You're in a bad mood.") So I'm going to take a week or two off, from the column and the podcast, hang out with the boyfriend and the kid, and burst into tears in coffee shops and grocery stores. I'll run some greatest hits in this space while I'm away—I'll find a column or two featuring Mom—and then I'll be back, just as filthy-minded as ever. In lieu of flowers, please send pictures of your boyfriends' rear ends. (Lesbians may send flowers.) If you're the donation-making type and you're so inclined, my mother would be pleased to see some of your money flow to PFLAG (pflag.org) or the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation (pulmonaryfibrosis.org).

<snip>

Go read the whole thing, please.

[MonkeyFunk]

1. aw, that's so sad

[SeattleGirl]

2. His mom reminds me of my own.

May she rest peacefully.

:cry:

[Book Lover]

3. kick

[applegrove]

4. Sorry for Dan.