I Hate Being a Member of the Dead Moms Club

I hate being a member of the Dead Moms Club.

I hate paying the dues.

I hate paying the lifetime membership dues.

I hate the grief.

I hate the heartache.

And I hate the loneliness.

I hate being a member of the Dead Moms Club.

I hate receiving the benefits.

I hate receiving the lifetime membership benefits.

You get some flowers and cards and a few meals at first.

Then you get nothing but sadness.

I hate following the rules.

I hate following the lifetime membership rules.

There are no living mothers allowed. Ever.

I hate the initiation ceremony.

I especially hate the lifetime membership initiation ceremony.

It’s typically some combination of a death, an obituary, a funeral service, and an urn or a headstone.

I hate welcoming new members.

Most of all, I hate welcoming new members into the club.

For all of the above reasons.

I hate seeing anyone else pay the same dues.

I hate seeing anyone else receive the same benefits.

And I hate seeing anyone else follow the same rules.

I especially hate seeing anyone else go through the same initiation ceremony.

I hate seeing other women become motherless daughters.

I hate being a member of the Dead Moms Club.

It really sucks.

But I’m in good company.

A version of this post was originally published July 20, 2022.