Hello, my dear Movie Mavens, and welcome back to the B Movies Blog! We’re going to deviate a little bit from our standard review today and get a little personal. For those who don’t know, my mother, KP, passed away after a two year battle with cancer, and this July will be the first anniversary.
I know July feels ages away, but somehow, we’re already into March, and it seems like 2023 started three days ago. Time flies when the world is in chaos, I suppose. But, I digress.
There are so many things about losing a parent you’re not prepared for, even if you’re a few weeks away from 30 when it happens. One that truly caught me off-guard is how integral the dead/dying mother trope is in the film industry.
No, really. Think about it. Hope Floats. Stepmom. The Holiday. The Family Stone. Even freakin’ Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again!
Sometimes, the mother dies to help our teenage protagonist break out of their shell. Other times, it provides the father an opportunity to find love again. For some reason, we love dead or dying moms. Especially moms that died or are dying of cancer. My big question is why?
Why is it such an easy plot device? Why do I continue to watch all of these movies and weirdly find comfort in them? I think I answered my own question.
As insane as it sounds, I think I find comfort in seeing something I’ve been through up on the silver screen. I understand how the Stone children feel when they find out this is more than likely Sybil’s last Christmas. When Jackie Harrison gives her children their sentimental Christmas gifts, I know how Anna and Ben feel. KP even told me she would be peek in on my future life events like Donna does for Sophie. It’s devastating, and yet, I’ve revisited all of these movies since my mom died.
Do I bawl through all of them? Yes. Do I have to occasionally take a break? Absolutely. However, there’s something cathartic in this ritual — it’s like I’m connecting with my mother.

Movies have always been a major part of my life; KP made sure of that. There were movies we watched during certain times of the year, i.e., Sixteen Candles during my birthday week, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark and The Halloween Tree as the Halloween season began, etc… Needless to say, movie nights and weekend marathons were commonplace.
Whether dead moms are used to be relatable or to make a quick buck, this trope helps me grieve. These movies help me cry when I need to and articulate the feelings I often can’t. I mean, hell, look at this entire blog post I managed to write.
KP, I miss you so much, but I feel you when I pop in a DVD or press play on my Roku. I’m reminded of movie nights filled with popcorn and laughter where we’re snuggled up on the couch with blankets and pillows piled on top of us. I feel you tapping the tissue box against my arm when I start crying. I can even hear your giggling after you’ve grabbed my leg or arm during a jump scare and made me jump.
For fear of this blog becoming a dead mom blog trope, I’ll end things here. The reason Hollywood uses dead and dying moms to sell a movie probably isn’t philanthropic, but for 90+ minutes, it reminds me of my mom, be it good or bad.
It also reminds me of why a father vows to never celebrate Christmas again until he finds a second wife. But that’s way less helpful.
For KP. For always.
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