Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • My mother died this past year. She had a long decline into dementia. It’s somewhere I hope to never go. The last few months she was in a nursing home because dad wasn’t able to take care of her at home any more. The home was near their house and dad spent most of his days and evenings there. She had always been so alive and active. It was very hard on her not to be able to remember things.

    I got the news when I was driving the 8 hours down to see her and my dad, for what would have been the last time. My cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number. I am hard of hearing, so I pulled over to the side of the road to call the number back. It was my parent’s friend David, and without telling me anything other than to “call your dad”, told it all.

    I called my dad’s cell and he gently told me that mom had died late last night and he didn’t want me to show up at the nursing home and find out that way. I told him I would see him at the house in a few hours and hung up.

    As I started to drive again tears began flowing and then (here’s the funny part) laughter hit me so hard I had to pull over again. I kept picturing in my mind Dick Shawn in “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World” when he was driving in that red convertible at breakneck speeds crying “I’m coming mama. Your baby’s coming to save you”. I guess you had to be there. I couldn’t cry anymore after that.

    My brother and sister came to the house the same day I did and we spent a lot of time with dad and the happy memories of our childhood. That weekend we went through, mom’s “things”. And, as if mom were there, the laughter kept flowing. If we came across a particularly hideous piece of jewelry we would tell dad to give it some one mom didn’t care for and say “Mom really wanted you to have this”. As you can fathom, we have always had a strange sense of humor.

    I miss her and it has a way of sneaking up on me. As I was driving along last Sunday (Mothers Day), I saw some beautiful white flowering bushes up against the front of a house. I was alone in the truck and wondered aloud (hard of hearing people often talk to themselves) “Is that wisteria?” and then “Mom would know”. My mom always knew the flowers and trees and of course the birds.

    This story has no end…I will probably always miss my mom.

    The accompanying photo was taken that weekend and titled the “don’t mess with us gang” with a painting of my mom in the background.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.