4/5/25

Thought of the day

Happy birthday, Mom.
You would have been 76 today.

“The life of the dead is placed on the memories of the living. The love you gave in life keeps people alive beyond their time. Anyone who was given love will always live on in another's heart.” - Cicero

She also lives on because stories like the one below are shared with Kyle and Hayden so they remember their Grandma, who would have loved them so much and spoiled them rotten. 

This post was originally written in 2006, which will explain some of the references.

It’s been four days since I last spoke with my mom, and let me tell you—a lot has happened since then. North Korea is still unpredictable, birds and bees might be gay, "Lost" somehow got better, "The Office" remains hilarious, and, oh yeah, my mom apparently got a sex change.

Wait—let me give you a moment to go back and re-read that last part. Yes, you read that correctly.

I’m not sure what’s running through your mind right now, but let me try to explain.

Picture this: I’m sitting on the couch with my two favorite companions—Mrs. Shife and Quincy (our basset hound)—watching the Cardinals battle the Mets in the NLCS. The stakes are high, the tension is palpable, and then… the phone rings. Naturally, the game is on, so answering the phone is not even on my radar. Plus, it’s 8 p.m.—prime telemarketer attack hour. Caller ID could solve this problem, sure, but I like to live dangerously.

The answering machine kicks in, and suddenly we hear this deep, husky voice start speaking. The TV volume was cranked up pretty high, so it was hard to catch every word. But one thing was clear: neither Mrs. Shife nor I recognized this voice. Even Quincy tilted his head like he was saying, “Who the heck is that?”

The message ended with “I love you sweetheart,” which prompted Mrs. Shife to turn to me and say she thought it was my mom. My mom?! That was definitely not what I was thinking. My first thought? Mrs. Shife has a secret admirer. Second thought? Wrong number. Third thought? My mom is not a dude. Fourth thought? Honestly, I didn’t know what to think anymore.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I got up and replayed the message. Sure enough—it was my mom. But here’s the kicker: it absolutely wasn’t her voice. My mom is petite—4’11” and barely 110 pounds soaking wet—and there’s no way that deep rumble belonged to her unless she’d undergone a sex change overnight or started injecting steroids like a bodybuilder prepping for competition.

Listening to that message felt surreal—like Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs had hijacked her vocal cords or like one of those criminals in movies who use voice changers while negotiating with cops.

Naturally, I called her back immediately because I needed answers. Was she secretly transforming into a yoked-out gym rat? Was she in the process of becoming a dude? Thankfully, it turns out everything was fine—no dramatic life changes were underway.

Apparently, my parents’ phone has a button that alters your voice when you make calls (why does this even exist?). Somehow, my mom accidentally hit the “I’m a Man, Baby” setting before dialing me.

Thanks for stopping by, and I will talk to you tomorrow

I will persevere.
I will keep moving forward.

I will be the stream.