I could not tell you the date of my mother's death. I could not tell you the date of my dad's death. These are not dates that I find significant.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
My mother died of metastatic colorectal cancer shortly before three P.M. on Christmas Day of 2008. I don't know the exact time of her death, because none of us thought to look at a clock for a while after she stopped breathing.
I used to say that my own father was dead, because he might as well have been. He was in Argentina and didn't play a part in my life. He and my mother divorced when I was only two.
You can go to the Internet and know more than your mom in two seconds. It's crazy how fast teenagers have knowledge and information these days. So, I think it's harder to say, 'Your father and I know more than you.'
I will not say anything about my father. Period. I don't have a dad.
If I talk about my father's funeral, as I did when I was promoting the last novel, 'Being Dead,' I'm not going to tell any lies, but there are certain things I'm not going to tell you, and I'm certainly not going to tell my grief.
I never knew my father. He was never married to my mother; he was never a part of my life. It was just my mom, my brother and me.
My dad died when I was 23. His death was sudden and shocking - the result of a car crash - and I never got to say goodbye.
I remember the day my mother died, and it's still hard to talk about it. I just blocked it out.
I have a strong memory of the day I was told that my father had a weak heart and that he had to go to the hospital. He died when I was nine years old on the same day that Franklin Roosevelt died; it was his 45th birthday.
Everyone has their dates. For me, it's 1991. I can place every memory of my life either before or after this date. It's the year I became an adult. My mother died, and I created my company shortly thereafter. I definitely would not have done it if she hadn't passed away.