My mother wasn’t exactly sure what a zombie was.
“So they’re dead, but they’re not dead?”
“That’s why they are called ‘undead,’ Mom.”
“Undead? Like vampires?”
“No, not like vampires. Well, I guess sort of.”
It turned out that even just getting my mother to understand the concept of zombies was much more difficult than I thought it would be.
This was the beginning of the pop culture juggernaut that was “The Walking Dead,” AMC’s smash hit show based on the comic of the same name. The adventures of Rick Grimes and crew felt like a new and fresh take on the old tropes of the zombie apocalypse. Although I stepped off pretty hard later in the show’s life, at the time I was absolutely loving it.
And my mother did her best to participate in whatever I was interested in at the time. So, we were discussing zombies. I didn’t understand how my mother, a quite intelligent and well-read woman, had never really encountered the concept of a zombie before this point. It’s a pop culture construct, sure, but how common is it that someone doesn’t know even the basic facts about zombies?
I know, “facts” is funny. But you get my point.
I remember being in the car with her, driving back from Milwaukee where we had been visiting my brother and his family. And I started to explain to her that in order to “kill” a zombie, an already-dead creature, you had to shoot it in the head. And that in the show, people whose loved ones had “turned” had to shoot them in the head to remove the new threat they posed.
This was an extremely emotional and difficult concept for her.
“So, if you became a zombie, I would have to shoot you in the head?” she said, alarmed.
“Well, I guess so, Mom. If it came to that, you would,” I said.
“But I don’t want to shoot you in the head!” she said.
Sigh. Shaking my head, I said something to the effect of, “Well, in the first place, zombies are not real. Second, I’m glad you don’t want to shoot me in the head. But I didn’t make up these rules!”
My mother didn’t actually watch “The Walking Dead” until seven years after the show started. She had moved to an apartment in Madison from her big house out between Spring Green and Dodgeville the previous fall, because it wasn’t feasible for her to live alone so far out in the country. For the first time she had decent internet, so streaming Netflix etc. became a thing we could enjoy together.
I was surprised at how much she enjoyed “Walking Dead.” It had a ton of gore and scares — by definition — and I never thought she liked that sort of thing. But she seemed fascinated by the show. And with streaming we could start back at the beginning again to watch the story unfold.
One of the funny aspects of watching the show with my mother is that she developed quite a crush on Andrew Lincoln, who plays main lead Rick Grimes. So much so that for her birthday, I bought an autographed photo of Andrew Lincoln on eBay. It came with a certificate of authenticity and everything. She never took it out of the plastic wrapping, but I know she was tickled by the gift.
I remember the show being one of those odd ways we bonded once she moved into Madison and I could see her much more often. (Her house in the country was an hour away for me.) In that period, I was taking one afternoon a week off from work so I could spend some extra uninterrupted time with her that wasn’t later at night when she would be tired.
I would go shopping for her, do whatever chores needed doing, we would watch “Jeopardy,” and she would listen intently to whatever nonsense was going on with me that day. I don’t remember how many times I said, “This is boring. You don’t want to hear this.” But she assured me that she did. And she really did.
Ever since my parents separated when I was in high school, my mother and I were a team. My brothers were already away at college. My mother and I moved from Richland Center to Madison when I started my sophomore year; I went from a high school of 300 kids to one with 2,000. She was dealing with the separation and trying to create a new life for herself. So we were going through a lot together. And that bond carried through to the time she became ill and needed the attention that I was so lucky to be able to give her.
Mom loved the first season of “The Crown.” She had been a teenager when Elizabeth II began her reign, and Mom enjoyed reliving that time through the show. The production design, the pomp and circumstance, and not to put too fine a point on it, the elegant manners of that time resonated with her.
And we would also watch “The Walking Dead” from the beginning. She called those afternoons “our special time,” and she would even cancel plans with friends if they conflicted with those visits.
What I wouldn’t give to have just one more of those afternoons with her.
Only a couple of episodes into the series, my mother first laid eyes on Rick’s wife, Lori Grimes. Lori was one of the most hated characters in the early years of the show. Personally I tended to agree with the popular sentiment. She was a whiny manipulator who seemed to be just an engine for the conflict of the week.
My mother took one look at Lori Grimes and said, “Well, she just has to go!”
My mother was a wise, wise woman.
Mom, I miss you and love you more than I can say.